


The Blade's Edge

by tragedybunny



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Angst and Feels, Blood, Death, F/M, Light Bondage, Noxus, Rare Pairings, Romance, Smut, Swain/Katarina, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-08
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2020-02-28 16:56:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 14
Words: 38,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18760591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tragedybunny/pseuds/tragedybunny
Summary: They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected.





	1. Swain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greetings,   
> I'd like to say thank you for taking the time to read through my little passion project. The story means a lot to me, it's my first real return to writing after many years. If I could ask you one thing, please leave a comment. Take a moment and let me know what you like and don't like. It's very encouraging to have a chance to discuss my work and I appreciate it very much.   
> ❤tragedybunny❤

The black satin sheets were pulled up to her waist, her pale skin and fiery hair illuminated only by the moonlight. She was stunning, of course there was never a moment I didn’t find her so. Kat lay with her head resting on my chest, one arm around my waist. I could just see the outline of the small bruises that adorned her skin, neck to chest, fresh and just beginning to darken. Her closeness now was out of the ordinary, but she had been a mess, whimpering and squirming while I was leaving marks on her and then moaning herself into exhaustion. I ran my hand down her back while I was speaking and almost lost my train of thought while I contemplated all the things I’d like to do to her. 

I had to admit, thus far our whole arrangement had worked out better than I could’ve imagined. She of course had turned out to be the perfect instrument of death I had desired her to be, working exclusively for me since the demise of her father. And when she returned from assignments I’d find myself unable to resist that heady mixture of sensuality and bloodlust that was the essence of her. 

However I’d found that there was one drawback to having my own favorite exclusive assassin, it exposed to her to any number of secrets, both my own and those of the Empire. Especially given that she had at first been playing the dutiful daughter still, by her mother’s side, never speaking of what had become of her father. That was another risk, leaving her exposed still to the cabal her parents were known to be apart of that of course still moved in the shadows, spoiling to take Noxus for its own selfish interests. 

Some weeks ago I came to the conclusion something had to be done to mitigate the problems that were compounding within the situation. She’d been out in the border territories, taking care of some Governor's trouble starting relation. The early autumn sun faded fast as I studied the map of the region laid out on the ancient oak table that took up a good portion of the study. This particular territory had been more than its fair share of trouble lately. I sat back in the high backed leather chair, reached for the glass of wine next to me, and contemplated ridding myself of every last Official there and starting over with fresh blood that would show a little more loyalty when push came to shove. The risk of open rebellion was becoming a little too concrete. 

One of the maids had already been in to stoke the fire and I stared into the flickering shadows dancing over the shelves heavy with tomes and ancient volumes and the little used desk tucked in the corner. Thoughts of risks to the Empire brought me back to the question of what to do with Katarina.

Beatrice had come in from hunting and was perched close by grooming herself. “What to do with the assassin?” She gave a soft caw. “Very helpful as usual.” The most obvious solution would be to simply kill her, go back to hiring multiple, very anonymous others to do what needed to be done. 

A light tapping on the door interrupted those thoughts. “Enter.” And there she was, as though summoned by my thoughts, looking road weary but very clearly self satisfied. I rose to greet her, still weighing the options in my mind. 

“It went well, I trust.” The distance between us shrinking to mere inches. 

A coy smiled played about her lips, but the green of her eyes sparked with excitement. “But of course. There may have been a small amount of collateral damage though…”

My arms wrapped around her waist and roughly pulled her against me. “You were being reckless.” I growled in her ear.

I felt her shiver against me as she wrapped her arms around my neck. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound like me at all.” 

I could kill her now, just be done with what was certainly the inevitable. Much like the first time I had been in this situation though I found I simply didn’t desire to. She excelled at what she did and her loyalty had been unimpeachable thus far. I felt her lips trace my jawline. Still, something had to give.

I leaned in and kissed her roughly feeling my thoughts begin to cloud from the heat of her body pressed to mine. She tilted her head back, as I made my way down her neck, her breath turning to soft sighs. That’s when the solution came to me. She couldn’t betray me if she were more firmly under my control, made to be dependent on me, never far from my influence. 

I left off my attentions on her and she sighed disappointedly. “Pressing business elsewhere?” She was irritated but her words still came out in a breathy whisper. 

I disentangled myself from her, if she refused she’d leave me little choice but to put things to a permanent end. “No, but there’s something that’s been on my mind as of late that needs to be settled. You cannot continue to work for me and have my trust when you are in a position to be poisoned by outside influence.” 

“And?” She ran a hand through her hair, the tell I’d made her nervous, and then crossed her arms. Curious, despite that nervousness her mind hadn’t gone down the path mine had. Foolish girl, did she actually trust me?

I put more distance between us, the last thing I needed was her to get any idea what I was about to propose had any sentimentality attached to it. “You will take up residence here, where I can make sure you are loyal. You’ll be well provided for and will continue to work for me as I need…”

She cut me off abruptly, her eyes flashing with a sudden fury. “Really, that’s your solution? To turn me into your property? “ Her voice is raised enough I know we can be overheard. “And no doubt you’ll expect more than just killing from me.”

Interesting, I hadn’t anticipated she’d be incensed by the idea. I remain calm, I know her well enough that matching her sudden fury will only make her more stubborn. “Of course not, though it wouldn’t be unwelcome. Is it really all that different than our current circumstance?”

“Of course it is, it’s you trying to control me entirely.” She makes a point of looking away from me. 

I didn’t bother denying it. Seconds crawled by while I awaited her answer. Maybe I’d misread her entirely and perhaps she would refuse. I clenched my fist unconsciously, preparing for it. 

“Fine.” She finally spat, arms still crossed, turning back to fix a glare on me. “Mother is insufferable anyway.” 

For a moment I pondered exactly what she was thinking saying yes when she seemed to find the whole thing distasteful.I never bothered to ask her reasons, in truth it didn’t matter. I had her compliance and really that was all that was necessary. 

That was what brought us to where we were now. Kat had taken residence in the rooms next door to mine, connected by a small discrete hall behind the two suites. The place that would have been reserved for a spouse if I’d ever married. Keeping the woman who was essentially now my mistress there would have scandalized my parents noble sensibilities, which added a small bit of appeal to the whole thing.

She’d gotten over her anger after a few days of stubbornly not speaking to me. Eventually coming out of her room to join me for dinner. which ended with her in my lap assuring me we had an understanding and she was satisfied with how things had worked out while sucking drops of wine off my fingertips. 

I didn’t require her to kill often, many of mine and the Empire’s enemies had been dealt with. I kept her reserved for the most pressing of occasions. However that meant that more often I found myself with her like this, not just sharing physical intimacy, but conversing, trading ideas and opinions. As there aren’t many people I trust, it wasn’t entirely unwelcome to have another perspective from time to time. 

Where was I? I focused my thoughts away from the temptations of her. Ah yes, Frejlord. “That’s why I’m going there personally.”

“Well, just be sure not to freeze to death.” She needled, but I was about to ruin her enjoyment of my possible discomfort.

“You can stop being smug, you’re coming with.” 

That little smirk instantly turned into a grimace and a dramatic sigh. “What did I do to deserve that?”

I ran my hand through her hair. “Don’t be petulant. Have you been getting too spoiled lately, Kitten?” Something akin to a growl comes from her. I know the nickname irritates her, but her reaction is too irresistible. 

“You know I hate that.” And she throws a soft punch connecting with my shoulder before trying to roll away from me. 

She’s not fast enough, I trap her against me and lightly smack her bottom. “See, incredibly spoiled.” By this point she’s trying and failing to not laugh. She sticks her tongue out before settling back down on me. “And very immature.”

“I thought this trip was diplomacy only. I don’t see why I’m necessary.” She stretches a bit and yawns. 

“I’d rather have all the options available than not.”

“Hmm, if you insist. At least tell me we’ll leave the bird at home. “ Bea makes an indignant noise from her perch. 

“Don’t be cruel, you know she likes you.” I continue to go into particulars for a couple of minutes until I glance down and notice her eyes are closed. “Kat?” No response, she’s completely out. 

We have a few rules, one of those is that we always sleep separately. It’s my mistake for letting her stay as long as I did. I should wake her and send her off to her room but it is late and she did just return from an assignment. I sigh and pull the covers up around her shoulders, one night will likely not harm anything. 

I hear LeBlanc’s words from the Council meeting this morning where we went over the plans for the north. “Are you just dragging your little pet along so you don’t get lonely up there.” Her poison smile mocking as ever. I’d kill her if I could figure out how. 

Kat shifts and her arm wraps back around my waist, without thinking I kiss the top of her head. I simply have to control the situation and be more careful in the future.


	2. Katarina

The edge of Noxus and Frejlord, the end of the world, how did I find myself in this godsfosaken place? Oh that’s right, he asked me to come, well ordered me to. Either way, I wouldn’t have refused, I know myself too well to even try to lie. 

We set out from the Capitol in the company of several warbands, not enough for an invasion force. Our mission was strictly to make an alliance with the Avarosan tribe and their idealistic young Warmother. We show them the benefits of the grace of the Empire and they will fight our battles with the rest of the Northern Tribes for us. 

We’d past the Iron Spike mountains and the Delverhold to settle into a nearly abandoned fort, the very last outpost of Noxus. Many good soldiers had died in Darkwill’s mad quest to bring the North to heel, and yet this was as far as any had managed to get. It felt world’s away from home, but really it was pittance compared to what he had desired. And it was not securely held at all. The tension among the soldiers became palpable as we travelled, knowing at any moment an attack could come out of the blinding whiteness that surrounded us. 

I shook the snow from my cloak as I entered the worn doors into the hall of the small Keep that served as the central building of the fort. The rich black fur glittred as the candle light illuminated the tiny ice crystals. It had been a gift before we left, an offering to stifle my obvious annoyance at the whole endeavor. 

I pause to take in the weather worn building, everything made of rough wood and stone, lit only by candles. A long table fills the space of the hall, a fire burning in the large hearth. The skeleton staff scurry to accommodate the officers we’ve brought with while the enlisted set up near the barracks outside. The hour is later than we planned and dark has fallen fully, tempers are suitably short all around. 

I broke away from the general chaos and made for the stairs. My position at least guaranteed I’d be afforded private quarters. “My position.” I can’t help but laugh internally at the thought. What was my position - whore, concubine? That’s what they whisper in the Capitol. Really though, is it so far from the truth? One of the Officer’s staff show me to a room on one of the upper floors, tucked away down a small hall, with another room across from it. 

The problem hadn’t started when I’d agreed to work for Jericho, or when I betrayed my family and killed my father. That was a resolution to a conflict that had been a long time coming, maybe it would’ve ended the same way without him. He simply forced things to their conclusion in a way that benefited him. 

I flop down on one of the least comfortable beds I’ve ever felt in my life, it feels heavenly though after the journey. I stretch and try to get my road weary muscles to relax.  
The problem had started that first night though. I went to him for that promise of freedom he’d given, my life on my own terms, my family no longer allowed to shackle me. But I let my desire for him become entwined in what should have been business. Involuntarily I flashback to those maddened moments, his lips and hands on me, the way my body responded to him, smoldering desire erupting into an inferno. I realized too late I had given him a sense of ownership over me. And that had climaxed with his demand I take up residence in with him. 

I’d been angry, angry he’d made it so obvious I was in his mind his property, angry that really, I had no choice. If you were the type in Noxus to need an assassin and know where to get one, chances are you would have heard who I worked for. There are no secrets in Noxus, not really. There wouldn’t be any trust in the Grand General’s “pet”. My only other choice, if you can call it a choice, would be to go back to mother and live as the dutiful daughter of the House. I’d been shackled again. 

A knock at the door interrupts the pleasant haziness that’s settled in as I half dozed. I sigh and begin to sit up, I already know who it is. He doesn’t wait for my permission before the door swings open. 

His presence is palpable and I feel it wash over me as soon as he takes a couple steps in. The sharp lines of his face bear a look of annoyance, not surprising given the delays today. Despite his years he’s still quite handsome with those classical looks and noble bearing. 

“Kat, there you are. Settle in later, I have things I need to go over, join me.” That’s the other side of the problem, that desire for him was still there, tempering my anger. I decided to make the best of the situation for the time being and admittedly we’d fallen into a comfortable partnership over the last couple months. 

“Fine.” I deliberately put on a taxed expression as I get up and stride toward him. I gasp as his hands catch me around the waist and feel a surge of excitement as he pins me against the wall. 

“If you’d rather I leave you alone for awhile, you can say just say so.” His lips crush mine, hungry and insistent until I yield. He pulls away leaving me breathless, that pleasant heat building inside me. 

“Well, since you asked so nicely how could I refuse.” I smirk, trying to exasperate him a little. 

He ignores it and kisses my forehead. “Good girl.” I try not to bristle at the patronizing tone, I know it only encourages him. 

He veritably drags me across the hall to his room. Already a fire burns in the hearth and there are papers scattered across the battered desk that sits near it. I follow him over to it and a quick glance tells me it’s all the intelligence reports on the Avarosans and their leader, Ashe from spies, mage scryers, and anyone willing to be paid to talk. 

As he sits he suddenly pulls me down into his lap. I loop my arm around his neck to steady myself from the sudden shift. I realize I should not be privy to anything written here. I’ll admit to being pleased at the trust. 

“Our recent reports indicate the girl is terrified we’re going to start a war. She doesn’t believe her people can withstand an actual invasion, and they still have to contend with the Winter’s Claw. What do you think should we press that fear or remain gracious and friendly?”

Of course he’s going to come to his own conclusion, and probably already has. But he fixes those dark eyes on me and waits for me to answer. I feel raw and exposed in the seconds that follow, more so than even in our most intimate moments. Tell me to kill and I’ll never hesitate, never fail, but I’m out of my depth when speaking on diplomacy and politics. And he knows it, which irritates me. I answer the first thought I have anyway. “You’ve said she seems to genuinely care for her people. Fear may bring her to the table, but promises of peace and security without being conquered will be long term motivators.”

“Perceptive.” I feel the unnatural warmth of his left hand on my hip. “I agree with that assessment.” He squeezes a bit and I involuntarily lean a little further into him.

He spends the next hour or so going through every scrap of information, even though I know he’s already done so several times, asking questions he’s already decided the answer on. We chat and banter back and forth a bit and several times he stops kisses my neck or cheek, I run my hand through his hair and trace my fingers down the back of his neck. 

Finally he sits back and takes a deep breath. I’ve never seen him look quite as tired as he does right now. A sudden, small pang of concern startles me. “You should get some sleep.” My voice is inexplicably soft. I kiss him lightly on the temple. “I’ll leave.”

He doesn’t move his arm from around me and sits silently for a moment, brow slightly creased. However, there’s no hesitation when he speaks “No, stay, sleep here.” 

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. We have a rule about this as I was made acutely aware of before we left. I almost start in on a sarcastic reply but he looks weary enough that it dies on my tongue. “If you really want me to.” 

“That is what I said, is it not?” His tone is light despite his words. 

I get up and begin to strip away my heavy travelling clothes and extinguish most of the candles. I notice as he moves about undressing that his slight limp is worse. I don’t make it my business to ask questions about the demon, but I gathered it keeps him from feeling as much pain as he should from the old wounds. I wonder a bit about how he would be without it right now. 

Everything is thrown into soft light and shadow by the glow of the last candle as I turn back the covers and settle on to the bed. He sits on the edge, removing the brace from his knee that he keeps carefully hidden under his clothes. He hisses slightly as the muscles in his back visibly stiffen. I move behind him and wrap my arms around my waist, leaning my head against his back. My breath catches in my throat for a second. “Jericho, are you alright?”

He places a hand over mine. Time stops. For a moment everything feels different; softer, quieter. “I’m fine Kitten.” His words are so soft I barely even notice that damn nickname.

I let go and find my way under the covers. When he joins me after extinguishing the last candle I curl up next to him and his arm wraps around me and pulls me closer. My pulse thunders. He kisses the top of my head and warmth spreads over the whole of me. Godsdamn it, no, I can’t let this happen. This is not what we are. I want to flee to the sanctuary of my own bed, to not feel my heart beating against my chest. Instead I put my arm around his waist and close my eyes, hoping sleep comes quick.


	3. Katarina

“Katarina.” He shakes me awake roughly, the grey light filtering in through the windows tells me dawn hasn’t even arrived yet. That softer ambience of the night before has vanished, something ice cold filling it’s place. He’s standing over me, exuding impatience, his dark eyes impenetrable. He turns away from me as soon as it’s clear I’m awake. 

“Out, I need time to think.” I sit up and absentmindedly run a hand through my hair, trying to erase last night from my thoughts. I hastily dress to leave for my room, needing to put that physical distance between us. 

He doesn’t turn back to face me, staring out the window at the endless white in the distance. The color rises in my cheeks and I feel like I’m suffocating. I push it down, it’s foolishness, I know what we are. I try to focus on that, reminding myself how we came to be where we are now. Still I nearly sprint across the hall, the worn floorboards creaking beneath my feet. As soon as the door shuts I lean against it, trying to recover myself. 

“Come on, let it go.” I prod myself. I notice at least my trunk got brought up at some point. I dig through it for the white fur set, and change from yesterday’s traveling clothes. I can already feel the chill settling into my bones. 

I’d made a point before we left of asking Darius about what to expect all the way out here. We’d been in one of my favorite drinking holes, dark and anonymous, the kind of place where you can forget for awhile. We were getting pleasantly drunk, watching Draven fall off his barstool for the fourth time that night and hit on anyone who looked like they might come home home with him. 

Darius smiled in a way that was slightly bitter. “The cold is unyielding, the people are fierce and elusive, and it’s easy to lose moral.” He wouldn’t say more, evidently not wanting to relive his time there too deeply. “Truthfully I’m shocked Jericho is taking it on himself to go up there.”

I shrugged. “I guess it’s important to him.” 

“Well at least he knows he won’t get cold at night.” He shoots me a grin. I hadn’t told him the whole truth about how our arrangement started so to him it was quite often a source of amusement. The two of us live together and fuck, very funny. 

I slug his shoulder, hard enough to dump some of the drink he’s holding on him. “Don’t”

He laughs loud enough several heads turn toward us. “Hey, can’t say I blame him.” 

I drained my drink “That’s it, I’m going home. You can babysit Draven by yourself. By the way he’s on the floor again.”

“He’ll live. Take care of yourself up there, Kat.” 

“I will.” I couldn’t actually get mad at him. The two of them were really some of the only people I’d call friends. Unfortunately they were also Jericho’s friends, which made things awkward at times. 

I ran a brush through my hair, staring into the small dingy mirror mounted on the rough wood wall, and pinned it back. My stomach reminded me I hadn’t eaten since before we had arrived last night.

If I hurried I catch the Officer’s mess and avoid the chaos of the main camp. Another perk of the job I suppose. Also if I was lucky he’d stay in his room and I could avoid him long enough to finish sorting myself out. 

The small hall of the keep was filled with both the Officers we’d brought with and the staff stationed here. I sat as far as possible from any of them as possible, trying to be inconspicuous. I could already hear the whispers. Most of the officers know about my profession but still they wonder if I’m here as part of some plot they don’t know about or just for the Grand General’s comfort. I wonder the same.

Finally in middle of eating as fast as humanly possible someone dares to sit down next to me. She looks young and haughty, possibly a Shuriman transplant. 

“Good morning. I’m Captain Veera.” Her accent confirms her birthplace, and her greeting is full of false civility. She’s clearly after something, I don’t know or care what. 

I nod in acknowledgement, trying my best to discourage conversation. She doesn’t take the hint though. “And if I’m not mistaken you are…”

“Not interested in socialising, clearly.” There’s a threat in my tone, there’s no denying it. 

Her eyes widen a bit. “I guess one can’t expect much from the Grand Whore of Noxus.”

Something inside me snaps, I was already having a bad morning. I’m out of my seat and behind before she can react. I grab her arm, twisting it behind her, pull her wrist towards her other shoulder. My other hand grips her by the hair, her face slamming into the table, the crunch of her nose is audible. Blackness invades the edges of my vision. 

Everyone should be staring at us. I realize with a sense of dread they are staring behind me toward the doors of the hall. “Katarina.” His voice is low and dangerous. I bite my lip and suck in a breath.

I release the Captain and turn to face him. He crosses his arms and glowers at me. “A word, upstairs, now.”

“Yes, Grand General.” I hurry and follow him as the crowd gathers around to asses the damage I’ve done. 

I shut the door behind me when we reach his room to hopefully preserve at least some of my dignity. I find a spot on the floor to stare at. I’m not proud of losing my temper, and even more ashamed that he saw it. It feels too familiar, this sense of failure. “Was that wholly necessary?” 

“It seemed so in the moment.” I still don’t look up.

He reaches out and tilts my chin up to look at him. “Control yourself from now on. I will smooth over this mess. Understood?” He releases me.

I nod. There’s no playful flirting in his orders this time, he’s strictly my commander at the moment. 

“Good. I have a job for you once our guests arrive. Since you’re not military, get out among them, be friendly, asses their mood.” I feel my brows knit together but I don’t protest, I suppose I’m just relieved he’s decided not to lecture me. “Don’t make that face, I know you hate mingling, but you’re here and you may as well make yourself useful.”

He suddenly softens though and runs a hand through my hair. “Besides, you’re actually quite alluring when you want to be.”

I let myself lean against his hand, just a little. “That almost feels like it was supposed to be a compliment.” I hate this weakness, this wanting.

“Don’t be intentionally obtuse, of course it was.” He kisses the top of my head, a gesture I’ve grown to assume means he’s pleased with me. He’s so close, I want him closer, to pull me into his arms. I know he won’t, now’s not the time. 

A horn sounds from somewhere in the camp, our guests approach. “Go on, I don’t need you to be immediately associated with me.”

“Of course.” I turn to leave, it feels more like I’m fleeing his presence for the second time this morning. I make way through the fort, now bustling with activity, Noxians hurrying to serve the Empire’s interest. Thankfully they're too busy to do other than ignore me as I slip out into the encampment that has sprung up around the permanent barracks. 

Snow lightly drifts from the sky as I watch the heavy gates of the walls swing open. In the distance I can make out the band of barbarians approaching. The officer’s servants have clustered off to the side of the main stairs, out of the way of the frantic activity. I slip among them, those that notice wisely say nothing. 

They enter the gates and I can study them better. Clad in furs, they bear no uniformity in weapons or style, a frozen reflection of the Empire’s own warbands in a way. They look hardened and wary, as one would expect from the people that live here. Except at their head is a rather young looking girl, hair as white as snow, on her back the bow of True Ice she’s known for. The leader who’s gathered these disparate peoples to herself. They cling to her, there’s definite fear here, you can almost smell it. They wonder what does Noxus want with them.

General Argos approaches and welcomes them, a good many seem to speak the Common tongue and understand him. Argos is suited to the task, a solid and level man, and a staunch Trifarix loyalist, he manages that first introduction without incident. 

And that’s when the doors to the Keep swing open, he does have a flair for the dramatic when he wants. The Grand General emerges, black armor polished to perfection, and despite the cold, wearing the coat that is his signature, left arm carefully concealed within. Even here, at the end of the world, the sound of ravens can be heard in the distance.


	4. Katarina

General Argos steps aside as the two leaders greet one another. There’s wariness in her features but it softens slightly after a moment. They’re speaking too lowly to be heard, but as her stance relaxes a bit the mood spreads to those around her. 

A pavilion had been erected to serve as a meeting space less intimidating than entering the Keep itself. In a moment they’re headed towards it, two of her warriors flanking her on either side. Formality melts away and slowly our two factions begin cautiously interacting. I suppose I should get to work. 

A young man stands off to the side of a larger group; handsome face, not far into manhood, and looking unsure and out of place. I consider it and catch his eye, but decided against it. I hate seduction games and my last foray into that most assuredly did not go my way. Then I spot her, not far off, a little deeper in the crowd. Similar dress to the young man, a little more involved with those around, but still seeming apart. They likely came from the same tribe that was absorbed into the Avarosans. 

I make my way towards her from behind, turn slightly to my side and walk into her. “Oh my apologies, I wasn’t looking.

She’s less than friendly. “Feh Southerners, does the cold make it hard for you people to think.” But she speaks common, so good enough.

“So sorry, again, it’s just so overwhelming, all these people, all the important visitors.” I make a sweeping gesture and gawk about trying to sell my naivete. 

She spits on the ground. “All I see are Noxians trying to get Frejlord to bend the knee, as usual.”

“Well, that is what they tend to do. I know that first hand.” I shuffle my feet a bit and stare at the ground. 

“That so? How’d you end up in a Noxian camp?” She’s skeptical but there’s sympathy there as well. Good.

“I was forced into servitude when my family was ruined.” That’s got enough truth in it. “All thanks to him.” I shoot a look over to the pavilion and instantly forget what I was saying. He’s hovering exceptionally close to the young Warmother, closer than he has any real reason to be, granting her the smallest ghost of a smile. I feel my blood begin to boil and take a deep breath to force it down. 

She notices but thankfully says nothing, perhaps attributing it to my fictional past. “Ashe won’t bend though, and neither will any of us. Not even if the whole might of Noxus makes its way north.”

“So you say. But I’ve heard the Empire is looking for allies, not conquests here.” I watch her face, waiting the see what she feels. She furrows her brows and looks away. She knows that already. “You should stay out of business that doesn’t concern you.”

“Lorna, you’re so unfriendly.” The young man from earlier saunters over. “Don’t mind her my dear, she’s afraid you’ve all come to corrupt our way of life.” So much confidence, maybe I can deal with him after all.

“Oh, is that so?” I smile and look up at him through my eyelashes. 

“I don’t care what all of you say, we don’t need the help or friendship of Noxus.” She stalks off leaving me with the boy making eyes at me. I glance over at the pavilion and he’s somehow even closer to her, gesturing at something on the table in front of them, ensuring they occasionally brush against one another. Godsdamn him, of course diplomacy with a pretty young thing involves him trying to bed her. I’m not a naive child, I know that there are others. This is the first time I’ve had to watch it play out though and it dredges back up that raw stinging emotion from this morning. 

I focus on what I’m supposed to be doing and turn back to the young man. “So you don’t mind us southerners?” I try to keep my voice soft and sweet.

“Of course, we need friends, haven’t got many.” I try to listen as he continues on but it feels peculiarly like the tip of a knife is digging into my chest. 

There’s a bit of a stir in the crowd as she comes out of the pavilion and someone sets up a target. He follows soon after, gesturing to the bow on her back. For the moment rational thought vanishes, I need to know what’s said between them. “I’d like to see this.” I drag my new companion along and get as close to them as possible. 

He settles next to me, still happily chatting. “Wait until you this!”

She draws the ice bow from her back, an arrow of sparkling ice appearing from out of the air, and she fires. The arrow flies swift, striking the target true, frost sprouting from it. She does the same with another arrow, and then yet another. All of them striking the target perfectly, enveloping it in a crystalline shell. Her people whoop and cheer. “Spectacular. You are as masterful as they said.” I know that tone of his too well. He glances about drawing her attention to the crowd. “There are many ears and eyes about. I wonder if you would be amenable to moving our conversation somewhere a bit more private?” I clench my fists hard enough that if I wasn’t wearing gloves my nails would draw blood.

“No, I have no secrets from my people.” I wonder if she caught on.

“Very well.” There’s a subtle note to his voice, he hides it well enough from everyone else, but I can tell he’s annoyed. At least I won’t have to spend the night listening to him fuck some barbarian. 

As they turn and make their way back to the pavilion the boy starts to speak again. Thankfully one of the Officers approaches and slips a note into my hand. “You have duties to see to.”

The boy next to me visibly deflates. “Well it was fun while it lasted.”

I make a noncommittal noise and leave him staring after me as I make my way out of the crowd. Once I’m far from prying eyes I open the note: “Our new friend has left a significant number of her forces to the west. He asks that you go and observe them and report back”

We have scouts for this. He knows that and he knows this is insulting. He drags me all the way up here for this! I’m going to stab him in his sleep, I swear. 

I shove back through the crowds and head inside to my room to collect my daggers. Might as well get this over with as quickly as possible. A moment later a young soldier is at the door with a supply pack, I snatch it out of his hands and dismiss him with a gesture. I take the side entrance and slip around to the back of the Keep. The small gate there is only large enough for one person to cross through. The guards admit me with no questions. It swings open to reveal an icy nightmare. 

West, that’s all the direction I have, west and a horde of barbarians somewhere. I pull up the hood of heavy coat, making sure all my hair is tucked inside. I give the fort a wide berth and keep my senses alert for scouts. The landscape is peppered with ridges from the rise to the mountains behind me. They make concealment easy and the Winter’s Claw is known to move through this region. Clusters of pines grow sporadically here and there, clinging to life where they can. 

A fine light powder begins to fall from the sky, perfect. I can’t imagine her tribe would be too far from her. If I move quickly I might be able to do this before a real storm kicks up. I’d prefer not to get stranded out here and freeze to death. There are better ways to go.

It hasn’t even reached midday yet. I trudge on for a few hours, ears straining in relative silence, the snow coming and going. I feel the cold start seeping into my skin, my fingers don’t feel as sharp as they could. And in the barrenness and quiet, I find myself with nothing to do but think as I walk. 

I relive last night several times, the strange soft moments between us, the feeling of him next to me as I drifted off. I chide myself when I feel my heart beat a little faster. That line of thinking is nothing but folly. I’m a tool for him to use and nothing more, as he proved this morning. Last night was a product of exhaustion. And yet when I think of him and that girl back at the fort, the anger is fresh and burning. 

The sun has travelled a lot further than I would have liked. Darkness comes early up here. I pause for a moment, scanning the horizon, and then I hear it, the howl of wolves in the distance. As if I didn’t have enough to contend with out here already. 

There in the distance though, a small plume of smoke from behind a large ridge. I keep to the shadows of smaller ridges and trees as I approach. It looms before me, full of rocky outcroppings and scrub pines. The climb to the summit is risky, but the vantage point will give me full view of those beyond it and get this ridiculous errand over with. I find a handhold in the craggy surface and begin my ascent. The going is painfully slow and I pick and choose carefully where to go next, the fine powder now falling a bit more quickly. 

Each movement is perilous, one hand then one foot. Halfway up I stop at a larger ledge to catch my breath and stretch my hands, hoping the sharp cramps subside. I exhale and watch my frozen breath drift away from me. 

I keep going, feeling the burn in my muscles, and the sting of the cold. Finally one last hoist and I’m at the top. The view momentarily takes my breath away. An actual forest to the east stretches for miles. The setting sun glints off the endless whiteness to the west. I almost wish I had more time to take it in. And of course there’s the reason I’m here, slightly to the north, the encampment. They’re close enough to get a rough observation

I keep myself low and hidden. I could try to get closer, but night is coming. I can tell from here though that the girl is right to be afraid. It’s a fair fighting force and they could elude the army for awhile in this landscape. If they were caught in the open like this though, they’d be crushed in no time.I stay a bit longer, watching them, making little notes in my mind, before deciding I’ve seen enough. It may not be as much as he wanted but he sent me instead of a scout so he gets to deal with my decisions. 

The trip back down the ridge is predictably slow as I test each foot hold before putting my weight down. The sun is now nearly gone behind the horizon. I stay even longer at the large ledge, every muscle in my body now blazing with pain. By the time I hit the ground night has truly fallen. 

I start my way back with much more haste, no longer encumbered by searching for signs of life. But I do hear something, the howl of wolves once again. I can feel the temperature dropping with every step I take. The snow at least had tapered off, the clouds clearing from the sky, allowing the moonlight illuminate my path. Finally as even my mind seems to grow numb with the cold I realize I’m getting close. 

Something moves in the corner of my eye. I reach for a dagger, my grip suffering in the cold. The first wolf, larger than any I’d seen before, rushes from the right. It moves at an almost unnatural speed, a blur of grey. I leap into the air over it, bringing the dagger down towards its spine. I make contact and the beast yelps, but between the numbness and its flailing, I’m thrown to the side. It goes down, I can’t tell if I managed to kill it. 

I hear the second one rushing toward me. I struggle to rise in the loose powder around me and it leaps. I bring another dagger up as it lands on me, driving me back to the ground. Its teeth snap for my throat, hot drool dripping from its fangs. searching for the kill, as I use the dagger to keep it at bay. I feel a stinging sensation as it grazes my neck, a warm trickle of blood runs down my skin. I push it back, the dagger tearing through my glove and biting into my palm. It scrabbles a bit, unprepared for a fight with its prey. I twist my wrist quickly and slash, opening its throat as I throw it off me. 

The first is back up on unsteady legs and attempting to charge again. It’s slowed by the wound and I make it to my feet and leap out its path before it can react. I come down to the side of the beast anticipating its path. With only seconds to finish it off I let the dagger fly and it buries itself deep in the creature’s flank. With a final yelp it falls. 

I take a moment to catch my breath before retrieving my knives. I wipe the blood off in the snow and secure them back in place. I push on, the adrenaline dying away, leaving me cold, fatigued, and colossally irritated at this whole endeavor. Finally the walls of the fort rise up before me and I make my way toward the gate, imagining the relief of crawling into bed and blissfully passing out.


	5. Swain

The mood around me is celebratory, Noxus has new friends in the north. The Warmother Ashe has seen the benefits of our offered alliance. In time we’ll help to strengthen the Avarosans and then we’ll absorb them into the Empire. Everything had fallen quite nicely into place, well except for a small objective I’d had my sights on. Pity, that girl is rather fetching. Perhaps it’s for the best though since I find myself in a rather black mood. 

Katarina still hasn’t returned from the assignment I’d sent her on. I expected her back some time ago and left word with the guards to inform as soon as she returned. That’s all I need is for that girl to get herself caught spying on our new allies and ruin everything that’s been done here. 

I’d had to play host to the raucous feast to commemorate this momentous occasion, our guests more than happy to indulge in the stores we’d brought with from the capital. I’d watched the feasting and drinking as night unfurled around us, feigning interest in several conversations, my patience growing ever thinner. 

I see one of the guards from the rear gate approaching. I wave him over and he leans in. “She’s returned, Sir. I’ve sent her to your room as requested.” 

About time. “Very well.” He nods and fades into the background. I should make her wait for me. She’d taken an inordinate amount of time out there, it would only be fair. But I’ve grown tired of the drunken debauchery around me and would prefer some solitude. 

I rise a few heads turn towards me, I put my hand up. “I need to attend to a small matter.” Most are too far into their drink to even notice. Behind me someone starts singing, my exit was well timed at least. As I make my way upstairs I plan to let her know just how irritated I am with her. 

“Katarina you’d better an explanation for this.” I snarl as I fling the door open and storm in. I stop short when I see her. She’s at the wash basin, cleaning a small wound on her throat. My irritation melts away, perhaps I was a bit hasty with it anyway. 

She turns to fix a significant glare in my direction, behind it though she looks tired and frustrated. “Oh please forgive me for my late return from the nonsense you sent me out to do.” The sarcasm drips drips from her words. She goes back to dabbing at the wound. 

I sigh and make my way over to her. “It had to be you, I trust you more than anyone else here.” It’s the truth, I hadn’t thought about how she’d perceive things though, the amount of offense she’d take. I reach out and tuck my fingers under her chin, tilting it upwards to get a look at her neck. 

I reach towards the rag in her hand but she yanks it back from my grasp. “Don’t.” She hisses through her teeth. She is definitely more than irritated with me. 

“Sh, let me take care of it.” I pry the rag from her and finish cleaning the wound before letting go of her. It’s not terribly deep, dark bruising around it making it look worse than it is.“There, it’s not bad, but watch it for infection.”

“I know that.” She snaps at me. I ignore it and wrap my arms around her, feeling the cold lingering on her. I want to diffuse her anger but she pulls away from me. “Do you want to hear what you sent me out there for or not?”

I don’t though, all I want right now is her in my arms, her lips on mine, the feel of her body pressed against mine. “It can wait, why don’t you let me get you warmed up first.” I reach out again, this time she doesn’t pull away but closes her eyes and leans against me. The mood shift is almost tangible, I kiss the top of head and she sighs softly. My hands move to the heavy coat she’s wearing, undoing it and casting it aside. I pull her shirt over her head and run my hands down her back. “My poor little frozen Kitten.” 

“Why are you so irritating?” She reaches up and pushes my coat off my shoulders, her voice now practically a purr. 

“You seem to find me charming enough.” Her hands tangle in my shirt, pulling it off, before wrapping around my neck. She presses her lips to mine, the soft curve of her breasts pushing against my chest. I scoop her legs out from under her and carry her to the bed. 

“I hate it when you do that.” She kicks off her boots. 

“You enjoy it.” I finish undressing and push her down onto her back. I listen to her breath accelerate while I remove her pants. I think I’ll make her pay a little bit for her attitude earlier. 

I push her legs apart and lean down between her thighs. I run my tongue over her, just barely tasting her. She hisses and her hands grip the blankets. I tease her outside, feeling how wet she’s getting. I barely penetrate her with the tip of my tongue. “Damn.” She whispers. 

I keep lightly licking her, listening to her moans, getting her close but careful not to take her all the way. She tastes so incredibly sweet. Finally I run my tongue over her clit before taking it between my teeth and sucking lightly. “Fuck.” She shouts just as I pull away leaving her again at the edge. 

I move up and kiss her deeply, driving my tongue into her mouth, I want her to taste herself on me. I keep my cock just outside her, letting her feel what she does to me. She whimpers and bucks her hips a bit. I pull out of the kiss but don’t give her what she wants. 

She sits up on her elbows, her skin flushed and her eyes glazed. “What are you waiting for?”

“I think because of your reticence earlier you’re going to have to ask me very nicely for what you want, Kitten.” I can tell she contemplates killing me for a moment.

“You can’t be serious.” I reach out and grasp one of her hardened nipples and give it a light pinch.

“I am. And apologize for your attitude earlier.” She grits her teeth but a small moan escapes her. I pinch a little harder, prodding her on.

“I’m sorry for being ill tempered.” 

“And…”

“And please fuck me...Sir.” The little addition of Sir makes me fight to not just bury myself in her. And she knows it. But I’m not done with her.

“I think I’d prefer you got on your hands and knees to show me how sorry you are.” 

She gives me a wicked smile, throwing herself into this little game. She does as I ask. “Does my apology please you? ” Her voice soft and alluring.

I don’t answer but drive myself inside her, feeling her tight warmth surround me, listening to her moan as I take her. It’s not long before she’s near screaming with every thrust before finally calling my name as she tightens around me. I follow soon after, gripping her hips tightly, burying myself as deep as possible as I spend myself inside her. 

I fall back onto the bed, pulling her to me. Suddenly I can’t stand the thought of her leaving and going off to her own bed. She doesn’t fight it, her back against my chest, her breathing slowing. She does look tired, perhaps I should've just let her rest. 

“So you were saying about the encampment of our new friends.” She makes an irritated noise and I kiss her shoulder lightly. 

“Definitely not enough of them to withstand an invasion. If they could be focused on without contending with every other tribe. But it’s a start for a decent foothold up here.” She stretches a bit, I know she’s about to try to leave. 

I could ask her to stay again, she likely wouldn’t refuse. She moves to get out of my arms but I don’t let go. I kiss the back of her neck. “Don’t leave.” 

“No.” She sits up, I’m too stung by her rejection to resist. “You’re an ass in the morning when I stay.”

“I promise it won’t happen this time. I enjoy having you here.” I reach and put my hand over hers, trying to convince her. 

There’s ice in her voice. “We have a rule, remember. You said before we left there shouldn’t be me anymore indiscretions. And look what happened this morning.” She snatches her hand out from under mine.

“Well then I’m changing the rules.” She narrows her eyes at me.

“No, you don’t get to keep changing the terms. And I still wouldn’t trust you to not be insufferable.” She’s actually raising her voice at this point. Are we having an argument? 

She gets up to start leaving again. “They are my terms and I’ll change them as I please. If you don’t like it you can move out of my house when we return. Figure out your life without my terms.”

I don’t know why I say it, other than desperation to win this stupid arguement. I don’t mean it all and I regret it as soon as it’s said. An unpleasant tightness suddenly constricting my chest. 

“Fine, fuck you.” She huffs and gets under the covers, back to me, as far across the bed as she can get. 

“Fine” I spit back, getting up to extinguish the candles. I join her under the covers facing away from her. Minutes pass that seem to stretch into hours. I know I went too far and laying here in angry silence makes me worry she’ll act on what I said. I don’t know why it matters, just that it does. It’s a strange feeling of vulnerability that I’m neither used to nor care for. Finally I give in. “Kat?”

“What.” That one word is as sharp as any of her daggers.

“I didn’t mean that.” She doesn’t respond. I turn over to face her. “Really, I’m sorry.” I reach out to touch her shoulder. I just want her to know that I’m sincere, to forgive me. 

But as my hand brushes her skin, the sound of ravens cawing fills the room. My vision begins to blur as a red eyed spectral bird lands between us. Pain erupts behind my left eye as the vision takes me. 

As it usually is, I see as through a mist: a cage of stone, an ancient magic called forth. A gathering of followers surround a hooded man. He turns a blade on one of them, his form reflects Du Couteau’s training. Ah, the foundling Talon. I hear a familiar female voice in the distance. “We must do what is best for Noxus.”

And then I awaken. Kat is sitting next to me, gently running her hand down my back. Why? I know it’s kindness I didn’t earn tonight. 

“Are they always like that?” She’s never been present during a vision before, not many have. 

“Not always.” I roll away from her. I don’t want her to be kind to me right now. “How long was I out?”

“Half an hour, maybe.” She settles back down and pulls the covers up around us. Her arm wraps around my waist, her body warm against my back. I feel myself relaxing, the pain in my head fading. 

“I’m sorry about before, you can leave if you want.” 

She exhales loudly. “Don’t worry about it.” I feel her kiss between my shoulder blades.

It’s not quite forgiveness but at least I know she’s not going to leave. There’s clearly work to be done when we return home.


	6. Katarina

Winter had followed us back to the Capitol. The temperate climate and our nearness to the sea meant it was always short lived, but for now snow lightly dusted the city, quickly turning grey in the ever rising haze of smoke. I was sitting in the seat of the large window in my room, overlooking the back garden, sketch board in my lap, drawing the city skyline in charcoal.The cold breeze of the open window was worth the unclouded view. Drawing hadn’t been considered an essential part of my education, so it was something I’d learned mostly on my own, and rarely had the opportunity to indulge in. The last couple of weeks had been painfully boring however, and there’s only so many times you can do katas. 

I’d commandeered the old armory on the back of house as my personal training spot. This nearly caused a fit with some of the senior servants as I demanded family relics be removed to storage. Moira especially hated the notion, as I was sure she hated me in general. She’d been the most obvious to see me as a stain upon the House from the start. Her expression hiding nothing as her and the other servants were gathered in the great hall to hear the announcement that Madame Katarina would be staying on an indefinite basis. Her protests on the matter of the armory were met with an exasperated hand wave and “Just do as she asks”. 

“Yes, please do as I ask.” I’d smiled in her beet red face. I won that round you old bat, though she’d gone from detached politeness to outright hostility after that. 

I felt an unexpected weight on my shoulder and a shiny stone dropped into my lap. “Kat” her bird voice croaked out. 

“Hello Bea.” I reach up to stroke her chest. He hadn’t been exaggerating, his pet really had taken to me, despite my best efforts to remain cool to her. “Here to bribe me again?” I look down at the bowl of sliced citrons I’d been picking at. I’d acquired them on one of my late night kitchen raids, the imported fruits being expensive enough I’d had to split a bottle of wine with the cook, Cress, to get him to stop mourning their loss. Thankfully drinking was his second love after cooking. “Are you even supposed to eat these?” She nipped my ear lightly. “Fine, but don’t blame me if you’re sick later.” I held up a slice and she greedily pulled it from fingers.

I’d been so occupied with her I hadn't heard the door behind me open. “I didn’t know you drew.” He was right behind me, looking over my shoulder. 

I almost slam my hands down to cover what I was doing, but stop short not wanting to smudge it. “I don’t, it’s nothing.” I feel my cheeks flushing. Noone’s ever caught me doing this before, so of course the first had to be him. 

“You really shouldn't denigrate yourself.” He pushes my hands out of the way. “It’s really quite good.” 

I snap out of my paralysis and move it to the side. “Were you here for something?” At my agitation Beatrice hops into my lap and lets out an indignant caw. 

“No.” She flaps her wings a bit as if the emphasize her point. 

“You little traitor. She’s been feeding you hasn’t she? Don’t worry, I won’t upset her again.” He holds his hand out and after a moment’s hesitation, she hops onto it. He lightly pets her head and speaks softly until she finally decides to perch on my dressing table and preen in the mirror. 

I couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled up. “Betrayed by your own bird.” 

“Very funny. I’m plotted against in my own house.” He leans down and kisses me softly on my cheek. I stop laughing as the sensation washes over me. 

“Anyway, you wanted something?” 

“You’re lacking in attire suitable for a formal occasion.” A statement of the obvious. I’d left everything like that behind when I left my family’s house, all of it had been mother’s choices anyway. 

I let out a groan, sure this isn’t going anywhere I like. “Yes, and?”

He ignores the groan. “That needs to be remedied, the Solstice celebration is in two weeks, and you’re going to accompany me.”

“Fantastic, a painfully boring religious ceremony. I’m not even religious, why do I have to go?” 

“Neither am I, and I’m expected. You’re going to make sure I don’t die of boredom between that and the party afterward.”

“It keeps getting more appealing. Isn’t this Darius’s job?”

“Hmm, no, I believe it is definitely your responsibility these days.” I detect the slightest bit of a smile. He leans in again, lips brushing my earlobe. I forget to exhale for a second. “Must you be so obstinate about everything? Besides, the last party we attended together was interesting enough.” 

“Maybe I could try to kill you again? That will keep things lively.”

He sighs, clearly done being gentle about it. “Just get ready, we’re leaving shortly.” He’s really going to drag me through this whole affair. 

Then he’s gone, leaving me in a storm of emotions. I’m irritated that he orders instead of asking, but at the same turn I’m thrilled he wants me there with him. On top of it all those same feelings I’d stumbled into up north have never abated; the heart racing whenever he’s near, the yearning for his touch and those moments when he softens with me and is almost affectionate. As much as I’ve tried to reason with myself I can’t deny what my heart insists on longing for. 

I’m not a fool though, we’ve barely seen each other since we returned. I know he’s done that purposefully, likely I gave myself away somehow. It’s rejection plain and simple, and it stings. And I loathe that I miss him. 

I throw on some clothes appropriate to the cold and head to meet him downstairs, resigning myself to whatever he’s planning. When I reach the bottom of the stairs where he’s waiting he takes my cloak from hands and places it over my shoulders. “Madame.” He kisses my cheek, clearly pleased I’m here without further argument. Charm when he wants something isn’t a new tactic for him, and yet it still gets to me. “Did you just blush?” This time he’s actually smiling. 

“What...no!” I start to march out the door. “Let’s get this over with.” The carriage has been pulled around and I climb in and wait for him to join me. When I turn back he’s standing in the doorway, having clearly heated words with Moira. What did I do this time to set her off? 

When he finally gets in he takes my hand and kisses it. “I’m sorry for teasing.” He doesn’t let go. 

“It’s fine.” I put on a cool exterior. “I guess I’ll just have to spend exorbitant amounts of your money to make up for it.” 

“You’re a cruel woman.” Surprisingly he wraps his arm around my shoulders and pulls me a bit closer to him. We ride the rest of the way enveloped in the silence that falls between us.

The carriage eventually rolls to a stop in front of Mistress Hester’s, of course, she’s only the best dressmaker in Noxus. I remember the hours of boredom as I tried to amuse myself in the shop while mother shopped and was fitted. Of course, Mistress Hester doesn’t take walk ins, no matter your position. I’m clearly the victim of a long running plot. 

Some stop and stare as we emerge from the carriage, I can only imagine the gossip this will ignite. I try my best to ignore it. The little bell above the shop door chimes as we enter summoning a severe looking woman from the back. There’s more lines to her face and her black hair has streaks of white in it, but her steely gray eyes are still sharp. 

“Grand General, Madame Katarina, well it has been a long time.” She’s already looking me over, sizing me up, quite literally. 

“As was discussed, I need her to look acceptable to accompany me.” I feel more like one of his possessions than ever, being remade to better fit his needs. 

“Of course, and is there a budget to be adhered to?” Her eyes gleam, no doubt she’s dreaming of the bill. 

He turns to me. “Try to keep it reasonable Kitten.” It’s been weeks since he’s called me that. I’m startled at how pleased I am to hear it again, I forget to be embarrassed we’re in public. He leaves a quick kiss on my cheek. “I’ll be back later.” 

He’s barely out the door before she pounces on me and I’m escorted to her office behind the counter. “Tell me now Madame, what is it that you like? I haven’t seen you in sometime and now I would wager your tastes are different.” Her last statement carries a couple of connotations she doesn’t bother to hide. 

What do I like? Mother always made these decisions. A strange sense of excitement washes over me as I take in swatches of fabric, sketches, and the in progress works around me. It was never the dressing up that bothered me, but the social events that followed. I could never be as elegant or charming as Cassiopeia and I was always reminded of it. Violence was my arena and even there I fell short in my father’s eyes. Those days are gone though, and however I’m tethered now, their judgements are behind me. 

“Let me show you something.” It’s a sketch, lace, meant to hug curves, and yet exquisitely elegant. “I’m seeing deep scarlet, you’ll be very fetching.” 

How she figured me out so quickly I can’t guess. “I do like that. A thought has occured to me though. I’ll likely need more than one dress in the future. Perhaps I should order a few?” He can hardly argue about it, he did force me into this. 

She smiles. “Of course, whatever you like. You’ll have priority for the first, so it will be ready in time, but we can get started on anything else you desire.” 

Several hours later I’m being littlely chided on the ride home. “Is that what you think of as reasonable.”

“I did try to warn you earlier.” I let my tone get a little smug. Leaning over, I whisper in his ear. “Shall I make it up to you?” I may as well enjoy his attention while I have it. 

“You most definitely will later. I expect you to be most apologetic you expensive little creature.” 

I run my hand along the inside of his thigh. “Only if you promise to forgive me after, Sir.” I purr. 

He looks like he may take me up on my offer right here in the carriage. He kisses me roughly and deeply, leaving me a bit breathless, but finally settles on pulling me tight against him for the remainder of the ride. 

When we return home I’m beckoned upstairs to find Gwen waiting in my room. Young and sharp, she’s always been the first to insinuate herself when she thinks she’ll get on my good side. 

“Where’s Moira?” His irritation is evident. 

Gwen wisely demures and looks at a spot on the floor. “She said she was unwell, Sir.”

 

“I see, how unfortunate.” It feels petty, but I’m pleased this stunt has incurred his ire. 

“I’m more than capable of doing her duties.” Confidence suddenly replaces the meek act from a moment ago.

“And no doubt you’re very ambitious as well.” He steps closer to her, studying her for a moment. “Do you remember Zaun at all, or is it stories from your parents driving you on?”

To her credit, she doesn’t falter under the intimidating gaze. “Bits and pieces, enough.”

He nods. “Very well, you’re to deal with whatever Madame needs from now on. I’ll inform Moira that comes before any other duties and I’ll see that you’re compested duly.” He turns to me. “Back to the matter at hand.”

He leads me over to my dressing table where boxes of jewels lay open, glinting in the late afternoon sun. ‘Fuck.” I mutter, not as quietly as I intended. 

“Wear whatever you like. They’re yours to use as long as you’re here.”

“No, absolutely not, that’s too much.” I cross my arms, intending to stand my ground on this. “People already talk enough about me, I can’t start going out in the Swain family jewels.”

He grips my chin and tilts my head up to look him in the eyes. “Then they can talk, and you’ll do whatever pleases me.” Again it's that sudden switch of tone, there will be no further discussion. “Understood?”

“If you insist.” I’ll be damned if I understand why he considers this so important.

“Good girl. I’ll see you at dinner.” He lets go and leaves me with Gwen, who had been making herself as unobtrusive as possible in a corner. 

I turn my attention to the ridiculous wealth left on display. No wonder Moira gave herself a fit over it. Stones of every shape, size, and color; necklaces, rings, heavy broaches; the result of a lineage of wealth and titles. “I can’t believe he did this.”

“I suppose he has his reasons. That’s one of the first things I learned working here, nothing is without a reason.” Gwen was now right beside me, taking everything in with me. “It is spectacular though.” She reaches for a previously unopened box. “Want to see the most amazing bit?” 

It opens to reveal a tiara wrought in gold and set with black diamonds. My eyes go wide. “Damn.” I get a little gleeful at the thought of wearing it, despite having a dim memory of seeing his mother in it years ago. I sit down at the dressing table. “Pin it on me, Let’s see if you’re up to your new role. “

“Of course Madame.” She goes to work, pinning my hair up, and fixing the tiara in place. It’s rough but it gives a good general impression. 

Gwen's work aside, I find I hate it. I look the part of being his mistress, like I am what everyone says about me, the family traitor who chose the wealth and power of the Grand General. “Do you not like it?” 

“No it’s fine. I’m just not used to seeing myself like this.” She nods but it’s clear she doesn’t buy it.

She seems to consider her next words carefully. “If I may Madame, you may want to make peace with that, all of Noxus will be seeing you like this.” Of course they will. No doubt that plays into whatever his goal is with this whole charade. 

That night after dinner he asks me to join him in the study. “There’s a matter we need to discuss.” He makes sure the door is firmly shut behind us and the servants dismissed. 

After everything else I’m not exactly sure what to expect. “This should be less fun than the rest of the day.” 

“I thought you’d prefer this since you acted like you were headed to your own execution earlier.” He smirks and takes a seat at the X’ah board. “Play while we talk.”

I don’t hide that I roll my eyes. I hate the Vastayan strategy game, mostly because he always wins. This time though I may have a strategy. My eyes travel to the whiskey decanter on the sideboard. He may be able to outplay me, but I can out drink him. I pour two glasses and sit across from him. 

“You’re too kind.” He takes the glass from my hand. “You go first.”

I move, an aggressive opening, it’s what he’ll expect. “What did you want to discuss?’

He makes a soft opening, like one would against a child learning to play. I can’t decide if it’s a serious assessment of my skill or he’s making a joke. “Your father’s Guild, they’re floundering under their current leadership, since his disappearance.” 

“Hmm, and?” I answer his move and tip back my glass, finishing it, daring him to follow suit. 

“They need leadership, and that’s where you come in. You’re going to take over, be the leader they need, and dismantle all the other Guilds.” I don’t watch his move, I’m too busy glaring at him. I refill the glass after he finally finishes it. 

I take my move. “Have you lost your mind? I’m no leader. And I’m certain no one is going to stand aside and just let me take over.” 

“Then you’ll dispose of them.” If only his sense of confidence was contagious.

“You realize that is potentially a very large number of people?” 

“My Dear, I don’t care if you have to kill nearly every other assassin in Noxus. The Guild will answer to you, and you’ll answer to me.” 

We play in silence for a few moments, I refill our drinks. After sometime a hole appears in his strategy. I smile to myself, at least one thing is working out in my favor. “Really though, I can’t do this. I have no idea what I’m doing.” 

He looks up and appraises me for a moment. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think you were capable of it.” I sigh and put glass number four on the table in front of us. “It’s not your aptitude that lacks, it’s your confidence.” 

Hearing those words stirs something in my memories and I’m taken back across the years. A dark haired, dark eyed, very important friend of my father’s is speaking to me, offering me advice in the face of my father’s anger. “You said something very similar to me once, a very long time ago.” The whiskey must be getting to me. I don’t even know why I bring it up.

“Really?” He thinks for a moment. “Oh yes, you fell out of a tree on me. You were spying on your father and I.” 

“He scolded me for the spying and my lack of stealth. I fell because I was nervous, that was your advice.”

“I’m surprised you remember that.” 

“It must have left an impression.” Everything feels so unbearably warm all of a sudden. “Maybe that’s why…” No, my tongue if definitely getting too loose. “Why am I even talking about that? It was so long ago.” 

I look up and he’s staring at me, in a way I’ve never seen before. “Kat…”

“Anyway I win.” He looks down at the board then back up to me as I smile triumphantly. 

“You cheated.” 

“No, you’re just drunk.”

He tries to stand and wobbles a bit before sitting back down and rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fuck, I am drunk. That’s still cheating.”

“It’s not technically against the rules.” 

“You wicked, deceitful woman. Very well, you win.” He gives in and actually laughs a bit. 

Just like that, the soft mood from that night in the north returns. I get up to clear the glasses and he pulls down into his lap and nuzzles my neck a bit. “You know first you excessively spend my money and now you win through trickery. What I am I going to do with you Kitten?” 

“Maybe you should put me over your knee and spank me?” I hear him inhale heavily. I knew that would get to him. 

“When I sober up I may hold you to that. For now I’ll settle for your help upstairs.” Really at this point, both of us are a bit unbalanced, and I find myself giggling as we navigate the staircase. Finally as we stand in front of his door he leans down and pulls me into a kiss that’s surprisingly soft “Come to bed.”

Everything around me spins a bit and I can feel every beat of my pulse. I know it isn’t just the whiskey. I’m enthralled by him again. “Of course.” I let him take my hand and lead me to his room, the thudding of my heart now all too familiar.


	7. Katarina

How does one stage a hostile takeover? You need allies to start. Which brought me to this dive in the slums just outside the waterfront district. I considered arguing more about it with him this morning but was cut off by burning need when his hand crept between my legs teasing me to arousal. It would have been a fruitless endeavor anyway, his mind was made up. 

Mistress Zell’s teams with life, a beacon in this dark little corner of the city. Noise and people streamed in and out of it’s humble doors. As you would expect of any less than reputable establishment, there were those that came for the cheap ale and those that came looking for something else. You could get anything and everything here if you knew who to ask.

I was here to see an old friend. Inara sat tucked in a corner, a would be client not so stealthily flashing her coin. “That’s a good way to catch a knife in the back.” I dig the tip of my dagger into her spine and grab for her purse. She tries to pull it away from my grasp but feels the steel bite into her. She panics and lunges back forward. 

I let out a cold laugh and move to the side, freeing her path. “Run along, I have more pressing business here than you" The poor frazzled lamb gathers herself and flees. I casually slide into the now empty seat. Inara crooks an eyebrow at me. 

“Madame Katarina, it has been a long time.” Inara is possibly the most nondescript woman in the world, mousy brown hair, tied back simply, brown eyes, plain features. Her voice has a well practiced unobtrusiveness to it, giving you an inclination to ignore it if she’s not speaking directly to you. It is these qualities that make her one of the best, she blends in anywhere she goes. “I hear you’ve made good for yourself, everyone has a lot to say about your...position.” She smiles overly sweetly. It’s a verbal jab and not a physical one, she’s only slightly mad I drove off her client. 

“They’re only saying I made my way the same way you did.” Inara was very close with my father once. When that went sour she left and set herself up as an independent. I return her smile. 

She throws her head back and laughs. “Gods, it’s good to see you Kat. What brings out of that posh house in Old Town and down to this miserable hole?”

“Opportunity.”

She leans forward, laughter gone, a business woman above all. “What kind of opportunity?”

I need to sell her on this quick. “A chance to take what should be ours. I’m sure you know how things are going right now. We could take control if we eliminate the obstacles.” I trust her to take my meaning. 

She thinks on it for a moment, taking a small sip from the cup in her hands. “This sounds like something that requires a more private setting.” She inclines her head toward a door next to the bar, a burly beast of a man sat next to it. 

I follow as she leads us to it, signaling to the matronly bar maid who passes her a key. Inside is a plan wooden table and a couple of chairs. Unlike Old Town and the other wealthier districts of the city, there are no gas lamps here, only candles giving their flickering glow. The door shuts and we are as safe from prying eyes as we’re going to get. 

“So you want to take the Guild?” She takes a seat and I follow suit. 

“It should be mine anyway. I’m taking what my father should have given me.” It was the reason I’d practiced giving her, but the more I repeated it, the more it rang true. This was my inheritance, earned through shedding my own blood. 

“And what about Talon?”

I clench my jaw at the name of the bastard my father dragged into our family, the one who came to supplant me. “He’s vanished, right after my father. And I’ll deal with him if he turns up.” 

She keeps her expression composed. “Well, no one can say you’re getting soft. What’s your plan?”

“Simple, remove the current leadership, step in, kill anyone who disagrees. Of course there’s a few I’d like to get on our side before hand.” 

“A blood soaked coup, I wonder who really came up with this idea?” I roll my eyes. “Be honest. It’s fairly obvious who the Guild will ultimately answer to if you do this.”

“Fine, he may have a hand in all this, but it doesn’t make my point less valid. What’s your answer?”

“After all those years of being told I didn’t earn my spot. You know what that feels like, you know it even more now. I’m in. Let’s take what’s ours.” 

Once, Inara and I were close. That’s not the reason I chose her though. I chose her because I knew she was bitter, that bitterness would give her a thirst for vengeance. She’d see this through with me or die trying. 

There’s two lists of names we both put forward, those we could turn to allies, and the current leadership that must be eliminated. Five potential converts in all, on two were both confident they can be persuaded, a third Inara knows well enough to have a shot with. Then there’s the three who must die. The others we can take some time with, but the three have to go in one night. 

“When do we start?” Her finger taps rapidly on the table, her growing excitement hard to conceal.

“Tomorrow, I want this over sooner rather than later. And if any of our potential allies fail, we’ll have to move even quicker. We don’t want anyone catching on.” 

She looks a bit skeptical. “That's quite ambitious. You must be eager to impress.”

“Shut it, you know I just don’t like to hesitate.” The remark hits closer to home than I like, almost throwing me off. “We’ll take the easy ones first, rendezvous after and discuss how to get close to the others, or regroup if it doesn’t go as planned.”

“Sound thought. I hope you’re ready for what happens after, if this actually succeeds.” 

I don’t really have a choice. “Change of venue though, Maiden’s Bowery, we shouldn’t be in the same place two nights in a row. Happy hunting Inara.”

We shake hands across the table and suddenly her grip turns stiff and she pulls me in. “Understand me Katarina, I’m trusting you. From now on we’re in this together, but if I even think you’ve betrayed me, I’ll end you without hesitation.” And she lets go.

I can’t fault her caution, so I don’t bother acknowledging the threat. No use stirring up trouble now. I simply nod and leave the side room, heading out of Mistress Zell’s and into the winter’s night. 

The hour is necessarily late. No one with any sense conducts their shady business in the early evening. I make my way back home through a combination of back alleys and rooftops, dodging the ice patches formed from snow melt, glistening in the moonlight. The wind blows enough to bite into me at times, carrying with it the tang of the sea, even as the distance from the harbor grows. 

About halfway there I hear soft footfalls behind me. Someone’s tailing me. I can’t tell if they were caught unawares or if they wanted me to know they were there. I duck under an overhang at the back of a darkened shop and wait, they don’t pass me. Not careless then, they want me to know. 

I clamber up to the roof and make my way down the less glamorous end of Trader’s Way. A couple of turns and I’ll get to Old Town and take the long way back to the house. I hear them again, closer. I take a moment and contemplate stopping and seeing if I can confront them in the open. No, I doubt they’ll give me the satisfaction. I change tack and sprint across the next few shops, dropping down into the narrow gap between two of them. 

A hard shoulder into the door breaks the shoddy lock quickly enough and I slip inside the empty lower floor. The sounds of life come from above, likely the owner and family. Thankfully the noise seems to have drowned out my entrance. I wait awhile in still and silence before taking the chance to return outside. Something about being followed for no clear objective is unnerving. If they were just trying to kill me, that I’d understand. 

I stay in shadow for the remainder of the way as much as possible, jumping walls and cutting through frozen gardens. Finally I reach the overgrown wreck that let’s me know I’m home. The garden is terribly unruly and the snow does little to mask it, the pathstones sunk beneath years of neglect, barely usable. Shame, it could be quite grand with a little work, maybe he’d let me…I yank myself back from that line of thought, fighting off a wave of sadness. I live here but it is definitely not my home to do anything with, and I couldn’t say I would even by here in spring. 

Everyone’s likely asleep, and rather than rouse the guards, poor ornamental minions that they are, I elect to go through the window. As I come around to side toward my window I see his light is still on. What is he doing awake at this hour? Might as well find out, he’ll hear me come in anyway if he’s up. My hands find easy grip in the old stone as I make short work of the climb. I ease the window open and drop the short distance down into his room. It always reminds me of the first night I came to him, the night my life changed forever. I find him still hunched over his desk, pen in hand, and my heart leaps a bit, even as I chide myself for it. 

“We have a front door you know.” He doesn’t look up. 

“I didn’t want to disturb anyone.” He still hasn’t left off whatever he’s doing. One corner of his desk is clear of paper and I take the opportunity to intrude and spring up onto it, legs crossed under me. 

“Honestly.” He finally looks up, quirking an eyebrow at me. “At least take your boots off.” 

I scoff a bit, but comply. “Letting me sit on the desk, staying up late. Were you worried about me?” I tease lightly. 

“Don’t be ridiculous, I was busy.” He’s turned back to what he was doing. 

“Right.” I pull my hand through my hair and stare at a spot on the floor, instantly regretting the attempted banter. “I-I’ll get out of your way.” 

Before I can move, his hand covers mine, thumb brushing along my knuckles. “Not going to tell me how it went?” 

I shrug, avoiding eye contact, feeling awkward as ever when he’s staring me down with that penetrating gaze. “Fine, she’s in, we have a plan.” 

Then he’s standing, looming over me. His hand cups my cheek, I resist the urge to lean into it like I always do. “Good job, Kitten.” He doesn’t let go. I go stiff. Did I give too much away? Can he tell what I’ve been feeling? “Is something wrong.” 

He finally releases me. “No, not really.” I can’t explain it to him. “I was followed a bit on the way back. Sloppy, like they wanted me to know they were there.” 

His expression remains neutral. “Curious. Nothing to do about right now though."

“I suppose you’re right. Anyway, I should get to bed.” And then he’s kissing me, quickly and softly. However brief though, I lose myself, for just that moment. I will it to be more than it is, more than what I know it is, possession and control. 

He pulls away all too soon. “Goodnight Kitten.”

“Night.” I hop off the edge of the desk and head toward my room. 

“Kat.” I freeze at the doorway, sudden anticipation burning. “Mm, nevermind.” I shrug and keep walking. What did I really expect?


	8. Katarina

The first two were as easy as expected, within a week we had them. Jaded with the Guild’s leadership they were eager for change and the implied rewards. Tonight however, could potentially provide a challenge. Inara was after her soft target, but I needed to get to Lark. Lark was young, but he was quick and clean with the kill, a rising member of the Guild. He could side either way and I would have to tread carefully. That is if I ever made it out of the house. 

Currently, I wasn’t even able to make it out of Jericho’s bed. He’d come home in a black mood and I ended up trying to improve it a bit instead of leaving like I planned. At the moment he was lying with his head in my lap, fingernails tracing up and down my bare thigh. I run my fingers through his hair and he closes his eyes for a second. Its an oddly peaceful moment for us and I’m hesitant to break it. 

“You know I have things to do. Things you told me to do.”

He doesn’t move. “I know.”

“And?”

“And you need to stay for dinner. Darius is joining us.”

Sometimes I think he’s being purposely frustrating. “I still don’t see why I’m necessary.”

“We’re discussing Argos’s future, I want to promote him. Since you’re familiar with him from the Northern excursion your opinion is valuable.” Before I can respond, his fingers stop at a large bruise. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?” 

I feel the blood rushing to my face. “No that..it was...I mean it’s fine.” I never know what to say when he’s gentle like that, I end up stumbling over my words and feeling self conscious. He kisses it lightly and his fingers resume their path. I work my way back around the conversation at hand, resisting the urge to stay here the whole night. “That sounds like you’re circumventing the system you established. And I hardly think Darius of all people needs my opinion on military matters.”

“No, I’m simply ensuring he has all the information moving forward. And you can speak to Argos’s character, his loyalty. That’s of equal import.” He grows quiet, his fingers still moving. And then finally, “And I haven’t had your company much lately.” 

“Now you’re just trying to flatter me.” I quiet that voice inside me that wants to hope.

He turns and looks up at me, eyes locking with mine, as if my thoughts are free for him to know. “Are you saying I don’t enjoy your company?”

I know he can’t literally read minds, but he reads me better than he should. I give too much away to him. “I guess I don’t think about it that much.” 

He sighs and quickly shifts to sitting, pulling me into his arms. I let my head lean against his chest, conceding this moment to him. “Just stay and stop arguing with me.“ 

I know I’ll be staying but a part of me wants to keep making it difficult for him. Being petulant and childish is the only recourse I usually have. It serves nothing though, instead I close my eyes and try to enjoy the moment, the way it feels when I’m in his arms. His left arm curls around my stomach, that spark of warmth it always gives off is comforting in a way, it’s a part of him he can’t keep secret. I run my hand along it and feel my fingers tingle a bit from the prolonged contact. “What’s it like?” I blurt out before I can second guess asking. 

He takes a moment to respond, likely his thoughts were miles away. “Hmm, what brought that on?”

“Just curious I suppose.” For a second I worry I’d angered him.

He releases me but doesn’t answer. I don’t know if it’s something he even wants to speak of. “Mostly normal.” He flexes it a bit. “Except it’s a bit like it’s asleep, slightly numb, nothing feels as sharp.” He kisses my temple. “There, you’re the only one I’ve told that to. You owe me.” 

“Fine, I’ll stay for dinner.” It feels too intimate, I need to put that wall between us before I say anything else I’ll regret.

He sighs. “You’re incorrigible. Got get dressed.” 

I lean over and kiss him, regretting that it had to be that way. I feel his hands back on my hips, pulling me in as I part my lips for him. I break away when I feel as though I’ll suffocate. “How long do we have?” 

“Not long enough, go on.” He disentangles himself from me and gives me a light smack on my ass as I get out of bed. We never have long enough. 

I try not to let myself be lead on, but it felt so real just now, like there was some sort of genuine feeling there. I run a brush through my hair and slip into the only dress I own, tight, black, and a neckline that hides nothing. I can’t even lie to myself, I want him to be pleased with me. I take longer than I plan, adding the barest hint of makeup to accent my eyes. By the time I head downstairs Darius is already with him in the dining room.

“Kat should be joining us momentarily.” I pause before the doorway, the mention of my name almost compelling me to eavesdrop. 

“That seems to be working out well.” The way he emphasizes “that” it’s clear what he’s he getting at. Damn him for bringing it up.

“There is no that. She’s excellent at what she does and her company isn’t objectionable.” It kills me how cold he manages to sound. 

“And yet she’s living here.” Why is he pushing this? Knowing Darius he’s just looking to get a rise out of Jericho. 

“Of course I do. I wouldn’t let the Black Rose steal another asset out of my grasp.” Asset, of course that's what I am, an asset, like any other piece of property, when will I learn. Grief and fury fuse with embarrassment and I feel like I’m being torn in half by it all. I want flee, just forget all of this and leave. But where would I go? 

I inhale, clear my mind. This is my fault. I warn myself time and again not to get lost in his act, not to become emotional. I freeze a smile in place and enter like nothing’s wrong, like I didn’t just die a little bit. Darius whistles appreciatively. “Stop.” I chide and keep my voice from shaking. 

“What, you clean up nice.” He winks and I roll my eyes. 

I take a seat at Jericho’s left and instantly feel his hand on my knee, his possessiveness evident. My raging emotions give way to numbness as I shove them down. Dinner is barely served before he’s pushing the topic of Argos’s promotion. Darius looks vaguely annoyed. 

“She won’t like this conversation being held without her presence.” Her, Guile, the Third of the Trifarix, or as I’ve known her the Pale Woman. Call her what you will, he has a point. 

“Of course she won’t, but she has her own machinations to tend to. Recent events have left an open spot in High Command, Argos should fill it.” 

“There are those more experienced and better suited than him. It could be argued you’re looking more for loyalty to yourself.” 

I chime it, I’m already bored and tired of this discussion. “You know Argos is for Noxus itself. If you present the idea no one will argue with it.” It’s terse and to the point but Darius is like me, the less politicking, the better. 

He lets out a deep rumble of a chuckle. “So he’s dragging you into his political games as well?” 

“Honestly I just want to get this over with as quickly as possible.” I favor him with a smile more genuine than the one earlier. We understand each other. 

“Much as I dislike her attitude right now, she’s quite correct, the suggestion should come from you.” He always has to use that tone. 

“Oh, my attitude is a problem?” He’s managed to draw back out the rage I had smothered. “I’ve told you to leave me out of these things.”

“I show my trust in you and your sniping is the thanks I get.” His voice drops to that low growl he usually has when angry. 

“I’m sorry I’m not a better behaved ‘asset’.” 

His eyes get wide for a split second. “Kat.” He sounds like he’s going to apologize, I cut him off by standing. 

“I’ve lost my appetite and I’ve got an assignment to handle.” I head for my room and get ready to go find Lark. I hope he resists, I desperately want to make something bleed.

I take to the rooftops of the city, leaping between them, scaling the heights. I actually feel free for a few precious moments, I forget everything and let go. Lark is itinerant by nature. Wherever he holes up, he doesn’t stay there long. Fortunately after chasing rumors, I’ve found the perfect way to confront him. His paramour is quite the upcoming artist, a little coin got me invited to his home personally. Clearly he doesn’t know everything about Lark. 

I finally arrive at the dilapidated building and drop from the roof down to the side door that I was instructed to use. It’s a bit of change, not breaking in somewhere. I knock lightly, adjusting the cloak over my shoulders, making sure the daggers on my back are concealed by it. There’s a couple hidden by my boots as well, but I’m armed more lightly than usual, I didn’t want to frighten this poor boy immediately.

“Darling?” He cracks the door slightly. 

I laugh lightly. “Alrich, I didn’t think we were that familiar.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were someone else.” Good, he is expecting him. He opens the door wide and beckons me into a room that serves as sparse living quarters. “It got late, I didn’t think you were coming Madame Sw…”

I put my hand up and cut him off, those are the last words I want to hear right now. “Du Couteau, we’re not wed, and I apologize for my lateness.” 

“I’m just glad you actually came! Let me show you some of my pieces.” He excitedly leads me to the next room, a space full spectacular explosions of color. Scenes painted with broad strokes, lacking defining heavy lines, capturing the feel of each moment, the exquisite emotion. Genuine admiration overtakes me, this is raw and powerful art. I find myself now hoping I don’t have to kill anyone here tonight. 

“These are very impressive, I’ve never seen anything like them.” I hold back on the effusive praise for now. 

His eyes light up anyway. “Really Madame? I know it’s not the style most look for.”

“I love it. I don’t just see them, I feel them.” The words are genuine, but I keep my tone even. I still don’t want to openly gush. One in particular draws me in, a cityscape in the rain. It reflects my current mood. ‘Would you part with this one? Remember, funds aren’t an issue.”

“Could I make a gift of it to you? I’ve never had someone of your standing interested in my work before.” 

My standing, honestly I’m starting to feel a bit guilty. “No, don’t be ridiculous. Think about a price.” 

There’s a knock at the door and his attention is instantly drawn away. “Excuse me one moment.” He scurries to answer it. “Darling, come in. I have a buyer with me, but we should be finished soon.” 

“No hurry love, it’s good you’re getting noticed.” There’s true warmth to his words, that affection is going to make him vulnerable. 

Time to make an entrance. “The style really is quite revolutionary.” Lark gapes as I enter the room, but only for a moment before going into a defensive stance. 

“Alrich, is she your buyer?” The artist nods silently. “You invited Katarina Du Couteau here?” Alrich goes white, his confusion at what he did wrong is evident. 

“Calm down Lark, I’m not here to kill anyone, unless I have to. And I’d hate to do that and ruin my chances of buying that painting.” 

He doesn’t lose the defensive stance. “What do you want?”

“Your support. The Guild is about to change dramatically and I'd like you to be part of that.” I drop into the only chair in the room. “Those who give me their support will reap the rewards of the new order. What do you think?”

His stance finally relaxes. “I take it this would give your supporters rank within the Guild. That’s a tempting offer.” 

“I knew you were sensible.” This is going a bit better than I thought, raising my suspicions. I decide to be blunt. “I didn’t think you’d be this easy to convince though.” 

“The Guild is a mess and you have his backing, the sensible will see you won’t be stopped. Better to throw in my lot now than to come to you begging for scraps later.” He throws his arm around Alrich and smiles. “Besides, you’re buying his art. Now everyone wins tonight.” 

I rise from the chair, I really don’t trust how easy he flipped but I decide to run with it for now. “Expect info from myself or Inara.” He looks shocked for a moment,everyone knows Inara. “Trust no one else for the time being.” I reach into the purse on my belt, he gets defensive again. “Calm down.” I pull a slip of parchment out and hand it to Alrich. The banknote would easily buy the work of any of the most renowned Noxian artists. It’ll change Alrich’s life, and as a bonus, irritate Jericho. “I expect my painting within the week. The staff will be informed to expect you. Until later gentleman.” I head for the door, both of them bidding me an unsure farewell. I turn before I let it shut behind me. “Don’t disappoint me, either of you.”

Inara and I arranged to meet to verify our status after our respective recruiting efforts. I tread the familiar path to Mistress Zell’s, this time on the ground, absorbing the city around me. I make the dangerous mistake of letting my mind get preoccupied by him again. I suppose I don't have a right to be angry. He was always clear about how things were with us. I was the one who kept hoping they would be different. 

The footsteps intrude on my thoughts, loud and obvious. Shit, how long have I been missing them? I quickly dash down an alley, taking myself a bit off course. Once I find myself alone, I stop in the middle, no cover, making myself the perfect target. “Show yourself coward.” I don’t raise my voice, don’t show any emotion. I’m not playing mind games with them, I get enough of that at home. 

Nothing, of course this can’t be straight forward. And now that it happened twice, it’s officially a problem. I continue on my way, listening but no longer hearing anything, frustrated that I was distracted in the first place. I’m going to get myself killed if I keep it up. 

Mistress Zell’s is teaming as usual. Flora the barkeep hurries to greet me. “The usual Madame? Your companion is already waiting for you.”

I nod and she admits me to the private room. Inara is already looking bored, sipping the shit ale. I take my place across from her. “It went according to plan then?”

She shrugs. “She always does what’s in her own best interest. It would be prudent to keep an eye on her though. What about yours?”

“Same, although his little sweetheart is mixed up in it now. Although I think Lark has more of a sense of loyalty.” Flora returns with the most drinkable red they serve. I immediately down half of it, wondering if I should tell Inara about the stalker. Not yet, I decide, I don’t know anything for sure and I don’t want to scare her off this endeavor. “One more and things will start to get messy.” 

“You know sooner would probably be better than later.” 

“Right, probably in the next couple of...shit the damn Solstice celebration.” She looks at me blankly for a moment. I drop my head into my hands. “I have to go, Jericho’s insistent. We’ll have to delay in case this blows up.” 

She starts to chortle a bit. “Oh no, is he making your wear a big fancy dress and everything?” Poor Katarina is going to have to smile and make polite conversation.” 

“Shut it or I’ll kill and replace you. I can do that you know.” 

“Oh, I’m terrified, please forgive me. I’ll never insult your important nobility duties again.” 

Her laughter is infectious. It feels good after hours of being so angry. “I suppose I should be leaving. “ 

“You should stay, have a drink or two, we haven’t had a chance to really catch up.” It’s tempting. “Really I’m secretly hoping you’ll get drunk enough to tell me about how the Grand General likes to fuck.” She dissolves back into laughter while I scowl. 

I glare at her. “We’ll see if I could get that drunk.”

A couple hours later we leave Mistress Zell’s a few rounds deep. I feel much lighter and the earlier fiasco doesn’t sting as much. I wander home, the stalker in the back of my mind. The soft wine haze makes everything more bearable. 

Snow begins falling again, wet and heavy, making everything slick. I realize climbing the wall is needlessly risky and head for the door. It’s absurd, but everytime I actually have to use it, it makes it real that I live here, that my situation is what it is. Sometimes I just need to escape that. Thankfully none of the staff are around as I creep up the stairs. Being deferred to by them is another thing I need to frequently escape. 

As silently as possible I slip open my door and enter my private parlour. The furnishings are ancient and outdated. I never use the damn thing, preferring my appropriated training space or the privacy of the bedroom. It’s hard for me to take up too much space here. 

In the bedroom I strip away the cloak and start removing the daggers when there’s a distinctive flapping behind me. “Kat.” Bea is suddenly on my shoulder, which mean the door between our rooms is wide open. In my current state I’d forgotten to even look at it. 

“Hello dear.” I stroke her chest but really I want to wring her neck. She makes a happy little bird croak. 

“I suppose you’re still angry with me.” That’s exactly what I didn’t want. I turn around and he’s standing there shirtless, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and looking grim as ever. My body betrays me with the wave of desire the overtakes me. I’m still irritated with him though. 

I shrug. “I guess not.” Bea nips my ear and flies off, presumably to perch for the rest of the night. “Guess she doesn’t like the tension either.”

“I’m sorry if my earlier language offended you.” 

It’s a non-apology, but I’m too drained to argue right now. “It’s fine.” I try to continue undressing, hoping he’ll leave. 

“Kat.” His hand on my shoulder forces me to turn back towards him. “Don’t ever run off angry like that again.” I can’t tell what he’s feeling, he’s obfuscating his emotions behind that wall of perfect control again. “I was...unsure if you were returning. I don’t like it when the situation is vague.” 

“I’m not promising that, you control enough of my life of my life. My emotions aren’t part of this arrangement and never will be.” 

I expect this will cause another argument and resign myself to fighting him again. Instead I’m surprised by a soft sigh as he takes my hands in his. “At least give me a chance to apologize next time.”

It gets me everytime, that rare glimpse of something vulnerable in him, something that needs whatever it is that’s between us just as much as I do. I know it won’t last, he’ll be back to ice cold by morning. Maybe I am just a fool, maybe at some level I enjoy being hurt. I wrap my arms around him and feel him do the same, my head leans against his chest. “Fine, but you better apologize fast. You know I’m not patient.” 

“Deal.” He kisses the top of my head. For a surreal moment we just stand there, no words, just two people clinging to each other in the dark. The depth of what I feel for him threatens to overwhelm me and I recoil from it. I don’t want to even think the word. If he pushes away simple affection, this would shatter everything completely. I’m not ready for that, the possibility that everything could end. I swear to myself to keep it hidden, to not let him know what really keeps me bound to him.


	9. Swain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not excessively happy with this Chapter, but it is a chapter. 
> 
> Thanks again to everyone who takes a moment to review or even drop a kudos, it is much appreciated on this little writing journey.
> 
> I wanted to do something fun and start adding a song link from my playlist for each chapter - so here's this chapter's song.  
> Type O Negative - Cinnamon Girl  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/7DeR4JkyfQHmUja3XC5oR9?si=wGO11o2LRmGV4tUbZw58FA

I hold up the chain of black diamonds to examine it and watch them shimmer in the gaslight. The largest sits at the front, receding to smaller ones to the back. I’ve always found the cost of shiny rocks to be quite vulgar, but for once it felt worth it. I’d offended Kat a few days ago and she’d been cold with me since. She wasn’t outright hostile, but it was clear what I’d said stuck with her, even after my apology. I hadn’t even mentioned her little art expenditure, thinking that would appease her. 

Hopefully, this little peace offering would finally put it to rest. It’d been something I had planned before all this anyway after her comments about wearing jewels that didn’t belong to her. Gwen had been an excellent source of intel for her preferences, and of course, her preferences were painfully expensive. 

I finally hear her stirring about in her room, the hour long past morning. While I’m not sure where she was all night, I suspect she was out drinking, given that she came in the front door and not a window. I tuck the necklace in a pocket and approach her door, knocking softly. I know she hates it when I don’t. I find myself spending an inordinate amount of time either avoiding offending her or figuring out how I’ve offended her. Ironic since this situation was arranged to further my influence over her. I suppose I’m only really delaying the inevitable. One day she’ll figure out that she doesn’t need me to survive, especially once she controls the Guild.

“Are you actually knocking?” She sounds half asleep still. 

I take her words as permission and enter, finding her seated at her dressing table, fighting to get a brush through the tangled waves of her hair. “You’ve requested it in the past.” 

“Since when do you ever listen to anything I say?” Of course, we have a very public event tonight and she’s trying to start a fight, definitely still indignant at me. 

“Good morning to you too Kitten.” I lean down and kiss her on the cheek, I’m not taking the bait. Her expression softens and for the moment there’s peace between us. “I have something for you, for tonight. Close your eyes.” 

She mocks annoyance but does as I ask. I withdraw the chain and clasp it around her neck. “Take a look.” I whisper in her ear and then nip it lightly. 

Her eyes get wide as soon as she opens them and her hand reaches up to lightly caress the stones settled around her neck. “It’s incredible. You can’t be serious.” There’s almost a reverence to her voice. 

“Of course I am.” I reach out and let my hand travel through her silken tresses. “You should have something of your own.”

She leans back against me, finally, I believe she is no longer cross with me. I wrap my arms around her, her head resting in the crook of my left elbow, my arm casting its glow against her pale skin. I wonder how she’s never been unnerved by it, treating it as normal. “You spoil me.” 

“Perhaps I should try it more often.” The familiar urges of having her so close start stirring. I contemplate throwing her on the bed and stripping her down to nothing but that necklace. But no, I have some last minute matters to attend to before tonight. I kiss the top of her head. “Until later, Kitten.” 

She makes a small noise of protest as I pull away, making me aware her thoughts had traveled the same path as mine. “Stay.” She purrs at me, taking my hand. 

“Busy.” I squeeze her hand and let go. 

“Fine.” She rolls her eyes but blows me a kiss on my way out.

Several hours and one clandestine meeting later I find myself waiting for her appearance so we can begin this absurdly long evening. I’ve only told her half the truth about why she’s coming with tonight. Having her company is, of course, a welcome addition to the tedium of official functions but there’s something I wish to accomplish tonight. I’m not ignorant to what’s said about her. I know the little nickname that’s trotted out behind my back, Grand Whore of Noxus. Tonight I want them to see her with me, to bow and scrape a little bit when she’s around. They can’t disrespect her in my presence without disrespecting me. Which is really the point, if they do it at all, even behind my back, it reflects on me. 

At the moment though, I’m reconsidering the whole plan since she’s taking an eternity to be ready. I pace the floor of the Hall, listening to my steps echoing off the walls, patience wearing thin. I finally hear her descending the stairs, Gwen trailing close behind her. I snap my head in her direction. “Fin..” The word dies in my throat. 

The scarlet lace clings to every one of her flawless curves, the small crystals sewn into it create a soft glow around her. The necklace is settled around a dramatic high collar, matching perfectly with the tiara set on her pinned-up hair. I involuntarily suck in a breath, the wait was admittedly worth it. 

She reaches the bottom of the stairs and stops before me. “Well, what do you think?” She turns around, letting me appreciate every angle. 

“You look like you’re somehow wearing half my fortune.” Her expressions falls, I didn’t think she’d take the comment seriously. I hurry to smooth it over before she responds. “I’m only teasing. You look lovely Kat.” She always did though, I wonder if she ever truly realized it. “But tell me how many knives have you managed to hide in there?”

Now she smiles so genuinely. When was the last time she smiled at me like that? ‘Wouldn’t you like to know.” 

Gwen wraps her cloak around her shoulders carefully avoiding her hair. I offer her my arm. “Let’s enjoy making everyone talk tonight.” 

Throngs of people from every station and background fill the Temple of the Sun. It feels as though every one of them is staring at us as we make our way toward the balcony that overlooks the temple proper. Every few feet we’re stopped to engage in meaningless pleasantries, whispering consuming the crowd in our wake. We’re successfully causing a scandal, the Grand General and his House pariah mistress. “You’ll crack a molar if you keep your jaw clenched like that all night.” 

“I’m trying to keep smiling. This is the best I can do at being congenial.” She hisses.

I pull her close, give her one quick kiss. “Just relax.” I forgot how much she dislikes crowds. 

Argos parts through the mass to stand by my side. “Greetings, Grand General, Sir.” 

The new rank insignia on display seems to have added a bit of pride to his bearing. “Argos”, I nod. I do owe Kat for that, her words pushed Darius into his part of that promotion, whether either of them knows that or not. Head of Strategic Defense would sound boring to those more interested in the outright “glory” of conquest, but Argos is smart enough to realize it puts him in a position over a rather significant force. And with his established loyalty, I tighten my grasp over the most central parts of the Empire. Too bad for his extremely incompetent predecessor, I heard they had their throat slit in their own home. 

“Will you be joining the festivities later?” He fumbles around for small talk, a true military man adrift in the sea of ceremony and formality.

“For as long as I can tolerate it. It is unfortunately expected of me.” Lady Montrose, a relic of another era, is hosting and nearly the whole of Noxian society will attend. I’ve got plans to be laid, so at least it will serve some purpose. I can’t stomach these vainglorious, ostentatious displays. “I’ll look for you there.” He starts to speak, but another voice draws my attention away. 

“Do you enjoy spreading your legs every night for your father’s murderer?” Of course, she’s here. I whirl around, leaving Argos mid-word, and storm through those pressed in around me to stand behind Kat, putting my hands on her shoulders.

“Soreana, it’s been a while.” Her eyes get even more narrow, leaving her whole pinched expression. I let my hands travel to Kat’s waist and pull her a step closer to me. 

“Good evening, Grand General.” Pure hatred flows through her words. Kat is pointedly looking staring at the ground, her mood from earlier completely evaporated. 

“You know I don’t think I’ve ever properly thanked you for that night at your home. It was good of you to reintroduce Katarina and I, much has come from it.” 

Kat laughs quietly, and finally looks up. “You make an excellent point.” She leans up and kisses my cheek. “We are grateful.” 

Soreana looks like a fish out of water, gasping for air. “We should head inside.” I slide my hand to the small of Kat’s back and guide her forward, lobbing one last parting shot behind me. “Perhaps this new year will see your husband returned to you.” She sounds like she’s choking as we walk away. Good, I always hated Soreana.

“Bit much, don’t you think?” She lets me lead her toward the pew at the front of the balcony. From here those of rank look down on the teeming masses below. 

“No, I heard what she said and I put her in her place.” I put my hand over hers and feel her run her nails along my palm. 

“It had truth to it.” She’s starting to dwell on it. 

I lean over and whisper in her ear. “Nonsense, every night would be a lot to ask of a man with my responsibilities.” I kiss her temple softly. 

“Honestly.” She slaps playfully at my shoulder and I believe she is sufficiently distracted. I hear enough murmuring to know we’re being talked about again, I find that deeply satisfying. 

“They let anyone sit up here these days.” Darius lowers his considerable form into the seat next to Kat. 

“Well, they did let you in.” She’s all smiles for him I note. 

“I kinda wish they hadn’t. The burdens of leadership I suppose.” 

“Poor DarDar, he might get bored.” It’s always like this between them, astoundingly easy. I’ve never seen them fail to get along, even when Kat is in one of her moods. Tonight it grates on me as he leans in and whispers something that has her choking back a laugh. 

Thankfully their banter is interrupted as the ceremony begins and the Priest steps forward. I note the seat next to me where the third of the Trifarix should sit is empty. Just as well, it keeps me from having to deal with LeBlanc in addition to everything else. 

It’s as though she’s summoned by that thought, her veiled figure practically floating as she approaches. She settles in, too close for comfort. “Well, someone brought their little pet with.” Her voice is so low only I can hear it. I shoot her a look and turn back to the ceremony, a sacrificial killing of the old year to bring forth the new. A deserter stands in for the old year, looking to atone for his cowardice by giving his life to satisfy the gods. It’d be meaningful if I believed in gods. 

Kat has turned her attention back to Darius, gesturing and whispering furiously. “What? I admire you, keeping up with that young little thing.” 

I wonder if the demon could strangle the immortal life out of her. “Are you jealous?”

“And if I was?” Now there’s almost a playfulness to her tone. 

Before I can answer I feel Kat’s arm hook through my mine. She carefully lays her head on my shoulder, not disturbing her pinned-up hair. I catch her hand and squeeze it a bit. She smiles up at me before exaggeratedly yawning.”Behave.” I scold and she pouts, her nails again running along my palm. Perhaps the crowd is getting to her, I should have considered that possibility. 

The ceremony is brief enough at least, Noxians don’t tend to prattle on to the gods, even when they do believe in them. Off to the self-indulgence of the nobility and, if fortune smiles, home before long. As we stand Kat turns again to Darius, and like a coiled predator waiting to strike, LeBlanc leans in to whisper to me. “You’ve been so...occupied recently, we haven’t truly spoken in ages. We should remedy that.” And with that she vanishes into the crowd, her invitation lingering behind her as we begin to leave. 

It is tempting. Leblanc can be charming when she wants something. And she most definitely wants something. Though what it is this time, I’m not sure. Perhaps she just needs to reassure herself my attention is hers when she wants it. Still, it’s always been a benefit when she gets what a little of what she wants. It keeps her docile to think she’s winning. 

“Jericho.” There’s a sharp edge of irritation to Kat’s voice.

“Yes?” She turns back to glare at me, halting the crowd a bit around her. 

“Nevermind.” She turns and starts walking away. I try to hurry after her without appearing to and catching up, I take her hand. 

There’s a moment where I feel her almost pull away. “Apologies, I was distracted.” She doesn’t say anything, but she leaves her hand in mine. It seems everything tonight must be difficult.

The crowd parts, some still daring to stare and take in the spectacle or try to whisper covertly to their companions. I stop suddenly and lean down to kiss her deeply, hands around her hips, fueling the fire. 

I’d almost say she was blushing slightly as we pulled apart. “You’re making quite a scene.” 

“That was entirely my intention, my dear.” I take her hand and continue our way out, leaving the masses gawking behind us.


	10. Swain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's playlist song:  
> Sam Smith - Stay With Me  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/5Nm9ERjJZ5oyfXZTECKmRt?si=ATq1LZLbS5ifOmaF4pys5w

Lady Montrose has an old family name, an old family Manor, and an even older idea of how society should function. She also has a vast fortune to put behind her ideas, which is why most of them have flocked here. Of course these days the once great lady is a mere puppet for her grandson, Augustus. It is he who greets the guests and acts as host, a child playing dress-up, pretending to greatness. 

“Ah, Grand General, Sir, Grandmother will be most honored.” He’s worse than a mere useless nobility fop, he’s spent so many years in scholarly pursuits, he now believes himself truly intelligent. 

His eyes genuinely light up when he greets Kat. “Katarina, it’s been forever, you look lovely.” He takes her hand, kisses it, and lingers entirely too long. There were rumors once about the two of them. I should ask her about it, it could prove useful. “We should talk later, it will be good to catch up.” 

We move along, further into the cavernous, ancient hall. “Be careful what you say to him. I don’t trust him or this situation.”

She just shrugs. “You don’t trust anyone.” 

“That’s beside the point. And not entirely true. I trust you don’t I?” 

She stops, she can’t hide the faint smile on her lips. “Fine, one exception.”

“I mean there’s one or two more, probably.”

“You’re not really making your case any better.” We’ve moved out of earshot of the boy, and she stops to whisper viciously at me. “Do you really think I’m an idiot though? Just look at him, he’d stab his own mother in back. In fact, that may have literally happened. You really think I’d trust him for a second?”

She has a point. “No, that was reactionary.” I kiss her forehead, she leans into it. “Do stop trying to pick a fight though, you’ve been doing it since…” Right, her mother. I take her arm. “Earlier. I don’t want to spend all night arguing with you.” I keep my voice level, trying to prove my point. We continue moving.

We cut through the overdressed crowd, wealth for them displayed as a show of strength, thronging between the overly plush parlors and the lavish ballroom. The lamps reflect off jewels at every turn, laughter flowing with the wine, and again they gossip and whisper as we pass. I pay it no mind, I’m here to achieve something, a step forward for Noxus. 

Kat’s voice cuts through the din. “Sorry for being difficult, I wasn’t expecting what happened earlier.” 

I’m slightly taken aback at her honesty. “Would you feel better if I found you someone to stab?” 

“Maybe.” It was supposed to make her smile again, but her response is a soft monotone. 

We pause again, stepping out of the flow of the crowd around us. I lean down to kiss her, pulling her against me, feeling every one of her curves pressed against me through her dress. “Or maybe we should wander off and find some place secluded.”

She’s wrapped herself around me. “Wouldn’t that be too undignified for your position? Imagine the Grand General fucking some harlot in an abandoned hallway.” Her lips graze my ear and she has no idea how close I am to recreating that moment. There are more pressing matters however. She sighs softly, not pulling out of my arms. “I don’t really want to fight with you.” Her words are uncharacteristically tinged with sadness. 

Frequently she’s angry or annoyed or irritable, she’s never sad. It strikes me as wrong somehow. I reach up to cup her cheek and brush my thumb along it. “Then let’s not.” She nods and lets me continue leading us toward our goal, stopping to grab a glass of wine from a passing servant. 

I spy Argos, engrossed in some conversation and looking as uncomfortable as ever. When he looks up and his eyes meet mine, I signal for him to follow. We come at last to a back parlor, buried in the depths of the house. The horde of guests has thinned out, leaving the area much quieter. Inside, Darius is already waiting with Augustus’s younger sister, Coraline. 

Argos looks around quickly, clearly trying to ascertain if the situation bids him ill. Coraline senses the tension and gestures around her. “Do take a seat.” 

The plush couches arranged in a semicircle are faded with age and fraying, the gilding is wearing off in some spots it would seem. The lamps are set low to attract less attention. “Is she here?” I look to Coraline. 

“Of course. Thankfully my dear brother let me handle some of the arrangements for this evening.” She rises to speak in hushed tones to a servant just outside the door. 

I take a seat directly across from Argos, Darius to my left. Kat remains standing behind me, draining another glass of wine she acquired from somewhere. In moments a short woman with sun-kissed skin is shown in by the servant. 

Coraline introduces her to our small group. “This is Amara Whitney. For those of you unfamiliar with our purpose here tonight, she has a most intriguing proposal for a strategy to quickly and reliably produce black powder weapons.” Argos and Darius lean forward, suitably invested in the revelation. 

“Correct.” The strength of her voice is disproportionate to her sleight frame. “By combining parts made to exact specifications and the rifled barrel, we can make unlimited, accurate, black powder weapons. With the steam engine providing power to machine those parts we can do it quickly and efficiently.” It’s a beautiful image, the forces of Noxus, armed with endless black powder weapons. It’s needed as well. The vision in the North gave me the first hint, but there have been others since, some conspiracy is establishing itself. I have an intimation who is agitating it, but it’s been frustratingly mostly chasing shadows. I know the Generals I have put in place will keep the army loyal though, and I may need it to be as deadly as possible. Just one of many security measures I’m working into place.

“If funds were provided to set up the operation in small scale, you would guarantee your results?” I stare her down, searching for any sign of hesitation.

She holds fast. “Of course, all that’s needed is funding.” 

“Your input?” I look to Darius and Argos. 

“That would be quite the advantage. Hextexch is near impossible to acquire in large numbers and we already control most of the black powder production on the continent.” Argos is eager.

“It needs to be funded. High Command will be skeptical of taking that on.” Darius has a point. 

“I know, that’s why we need private investors.” Of course, I’ll be involved, but as promising as it is, I will not be bankrolling it solo. If it all works out though, selling the arms to the Empire should net a nice profit. There’s a reason I turned the family fortune from lands and estates to finance and investments. 

“So we need to decide who to go to. This may be too forward thinking for some of my more traditional peers.” Coraline looks pointedly at me and Kat, still standing behind me. “I will be happy to contribute, provided Augustus is not an obstacle.” That is the conundrum, as stuck as they are in their ways, the Nobility still has plenty of resources. There is an alternative.

“Why involve them at all?” All eyes turn to Kat. “They are rotting in their ways and traditions while the bankers and merchants thrive. Why not go to those who have been making their own fortune, at least they can see the future.”

I turn my gaze toward her, stunned she involved herself, and more than a little impressed that she cut to the heart of the matter. “That’s exactly the solution. We don’t need them.” I haven’t been trying to convince her she has more abilities than just being an assassin for my own amusement. I reach up and put my hand over hers. “Very astute observation.”

All eyes are still on her. “Right, I’m bored now. I’m going to find another drink.” She turns her back on those eyes and exits briskly. 

“She’s been spending way too much time with you.” Darius grins like he knows some hidden secret. “If she’s not careful you’re going to make her completely boring.”

“Moving on. Coraline, secure an exit for our new friend. I’ll count on you to get meetings with the right investors. I’ll see to it that your brother isn’t much trouble at all”

She nods, looking perfectly satisfied at my last words. “I will be in touch.”

Finally, this night is nearing a conclusion. Although it has been enjoyable parading Kat around at my side. “We should all go out and fulfill our social obligations before leaving.” I look pointedly at Argos. “Let’s not make things too obvious for now. Darius, try not to drink our host dry.” 

“Kat’s probably already beat me to it.” I should find her before that gets close to being true.

We exit one by one, slipping back into the sea of guests. I make the rounds, exchanging empty pleasantries, listening to numbing prattle, and keep an eye out for Kat. I know how she can get when the wine starts flowing, and she already hates crowds. 

There is no sign of her after I’ve passed through nearly every room that’s occupied. Honestly, if she’s left on her own, we’ll have words later. Finally, hemmed in by some weasel faced little bureaucrat on the edge of the lavish ballroom I spot her, dancing with Augustus Montrose. I feel my jaw tighten, I explicitly warned her about him. 

I keep her in my sight, determined to see them separated without this turning into a scene between the two of us. I’ve never had the opportunity to see her dance before. Every step is elegant and perfectly measured, reflective of her other skills. The idiot leans in and says something and she laughs, looking absolutely carefree. Why is that almost anyone else can do that so easily?

A huge shadow looms over me and the poor, sniveling fellow trying to engage me vanishes. Darius gets uncomfortably close, a wine glass in each hand. “You know, instead of glaring at Montrose like you're going to murder him later, you could just ask her to dance?”

He’s entirely too fixated on this. “Are you implying I’m jealous?”

“I’m not even implying, I saying it.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. She’s free to do as she pleases. I just don’t want this having any consequences later.” I don’t need everyone here connecting the two of them.

He rolls his eyes and continues drinking as a response. The music ends and Montrose walks her off the dance floor, finding another drink to pass to her. When she looks in my direction we lock eyes and she immediately looks down and away. Neither walk away and he continues to hover around her. That’s it, the pampered little fop has had enough of her time. 

I start towards them. “Nope, not jealous at all,” Darius mutters behind me. 

The music begins again. “One more dance?” His voice exudes artifice and practiced charm. 

I clear my throat behind them. “Apologies Augustus.” At least her apology wasn’t sincere and now we can finally be done with this. “I owe one to someone else.” She smiles and grabs my hand, pulling me toward the dance floor with surprising strength. This wasn’t what I had intended in the least. 

“By all means.” He bows graciously but stares daggers at me. Idiot. 

We find ourselves in the midst of a waltz, at the edge of the dance floor, perfectly visible to everyone. “Now everyone’s staring again.” Her cheeks are flushed, though if it’s the wine, the warmth of the room, or the attention, I can’t tell. 

“That’s because I don’t typically dance.” And I don’t know why I am now.

“I can tell.” She laughs in that same carefree manner she had with Darius earlier. And like her smile at home, it’s been far too long since she laughed like that around me.

“I’m not that bad, you’re very mean.”

“Don’t worry, I’m good enough for both of us.” She’s right, I am terrible at this, but I struggle through. My timing is completely off and I step on her at least twice, but her hand in mine leads me on. The scent of violet perfume that surrounds her is almost intoxicating. It combines with the heat of the room and makes it difficult to draw breath. It’s a little bit of delirium, and dangerously I let the room and the crowd fade away in my mind until there’s just the two of us, just for a second. Then reality pushes back in and the foolishness of it seizes me. The waltz concludes and she lets out a little sigh. At least this has served as distraction enough that no one will remember her and Augustus. “I imagine you’re ready to leave.” 

A strand of her hair has come loose, I reach out and brush it behind her ear. “We could stay if you want.” She seemed so content. 

She closes her eyes. “No, let’s go, I’m done with all this.”

She leans her head on my shoulder the whole ride home, eyes half closed. I can tell she overdid it when I wasn’t watching. “So, when do you want me to kill him?” She finally breaks the silence.

I hesitate, that was the last topic I expected. “Later.” I don’t want to worry about plots and plans and grand schemes for the rest of the night. “It can wait.”

“Pretending to be somewhat pleasant tire you out?” Her lips brush my cheek softly, in direct opposition to her little jab. 

I pull her tighter against me. “You always insist on pushing your luck with me, don't you Kitten?” 

We finally come to a stop and I help her step down from the carriage. The snow has begun falling again, wet and heavy, blanketing the walk. She missteps and wobbles a bit, my arms wrap around her, keeping her on her feet. “Most dangerous assassin in Noxus, can’t walk in the snow.” 

She starts to dissolve into that soft giggling that only comes out when she’s like this. “Shut it! It’s this stupid outfit I’m stuffed into.” 

“And you’re tipsy. Do you need me to carry you?” She continues to laugh while playfully swatting my hand away. She looks breathtaking with the snow falling around her and her eyes lit up with genuine mirth. I wonder for a moment if we could always be like this. Could she be all happiness and smiles if I tried? Would she want that? Just to make life easier for both of us. 

The servants are all asleep and I keep her from waking Gwen when we get upstairs. I’m tired of being around other people. “Who’s going to get me out of this damn thing?”

“Be patient for a few seconds.” I take her shoulders and turn her away from me. I get to work on the tiny little buttons, followed by the lacing, their precious nature preventing me from using my left hand. She waits patiently, letting me take my time undressing her, finally sighing softly when my fingers trace her bare skin. I help her with the little pins in her hair, admiring the way it cascades down her back when freed.

She turns and her arms entwine me as she leans in to give me a teasing kiss, lips parted ever so slightly, her intention obvious. “Not tonight my tipsy little Kitten. Straight to bed with you.” She pouts, as per usual when she’s been denied something, but makes her way to bed. 

When I join her under the covers she's already mostly asleep, curled up in the middle of the bed. “Move over.” I try to gently push her toward her side. 

She mumbles something sleepily but gives way, turning her back toward me. I take my place beside her and make sure the covers are pulled up around her, I know she hates it when she gets cold. My arm wraps around her waist and I lay a light kiss on her shoulder as she relaxes against me. “Night Jericho.” She whispers softly, eyes closed. 

"Goodnight Kat." Sleep eludes me though as I lay here, holding this moment in my mind. It means more than it should, her curled up next to me, content in my arms. I can’t puzzle it out, I tell myself to let it go. I kiss the top of her head and finally begin to drift off.


	11. Katarina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the latest update - hope you all enjoy it! On that note, if you have any thoughts I'd love to read them! I can't say enough how much the comments I receive mean to me.
> 
> This chapter's playlist song:   
> Adele - Water Under the Bridge  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/4vb4mFvYsr2h6enhjJsq9Y?si=TwvoeS1LRiGT8strpYXBFA

I wake to the early morning sun that sneaks in around the drapes, coaxing me from sleep. I stretch, shaking off sleep, and start to roll on to my back. I’m stopped short by Jericho, still close enough that I feel his breath against my back. It still feels surreal, waking up like this. Sharing the bed carries a strange sort of intimacy that he was against for so long. Lately, though, something must have triggered a sense of possessiveness, he’s kept me closer than before. 

Last night begins to filter back to me with the errant sunlight, some of it admittedly blurred by drink, some of it I wished I’d forgotten. Mother and her accusing eyes and her ability to make me feel like a small child. I’m loathe to admit I had no answer for her without Jericho’s intervention, I’ll never let that happen again. The vile presence of the Pale Woman was unacknowledged but not unnoticed. I wonder what she was whispering to him. Augustus and his too eager hands and repugnant smile. I groan inwardly, remembering taking Jericho’s hand and quite literally dragging him out to dance with me. Too much wine, I conclude, thinking of my flushed cheeks, racing pulse, and sense of warmth. I should really cut back. 

I start to sit up but I’m stopped short by his arm wrapping around my waist and insistently pulling me back toward him. He starts laying kisses along my shoulder, feather soft at first, then turning insistent on forceful. His teeth scrape my skin by the time he reaches my neck. 

“Good morning to you too.” It’s too perfect this moment. Last night and today, the seeming closeness between us, a beautiful lie I could almost believe. Still, I feel the pleasant heat building inside me, there’s no reason to deny what he’s after. I turn to face him and press my lips his, softly, teasingly. 

“Hmm, I’m shocked you’re even awake. How do you drink like that and not feel it in the morning?” He idly runs his hand through my hair, nails grazing my scalp.

I close my eyes and shudder a bit. “Really, no lectures about my behavior? Shocking.”

“Well, I’m sure none of it was done to intentionally irritate me.” His nails start tracing a path down my back. 

I think of the look he gave me when he found me with Augustus. It actually had been only partly an attempt to get a rise out of him. I’d also been a little curious if he’d say anything self-incriminating. “I would never do such a thing.” I smirk a bit, I can’t help myself.

“Impertinent as usual.” His hand, now at the small of my back, forces me even closer to him. I inhale sharply, the sense of wanting intensifying. His left arm works it’s way under my neck, leaving me effectively pinned in place against him. I surrender to it. “One of these days, you’ll learn.” His voice is a low growl that could be intimidating if I didn’t hear the raw lust inside of it and feel his growing hardness pressing into my thigh. 

A hand returns to my hair, without the earlier gentleness, tangling in it, yanking it just hard enough that I tilt my chin up, exposing my throat. Wetness builds between my thighs with that act of submission. His teeth dig into the soft flesh of my neck, stinging and bruising. I make a noise somewhere between a gasp and a moan, the rough play only adding to that fire now burning inside me. 

He leaves a trail of bite bruises from neck down to my breasts, each one searing and exquisitely painful. His hand still in my hair ensures I remain exposed to his whims. At last, I feel his teeth sharply against a nipple, sinking in harder than he’s ever dared before. I whimper and involuntarily thrust my hips against him in blind desire, a haze settling around my thoughts. “Where’s all your sass at now Kitten?” I can’t even choke out words for a retort and I’m rewarded with his teeth again, though not as hard this time. 

He releases his grip on my hair and before I can even react he straddles one of my thighs, my other leg forced roughly to the side. He finds my wrists and with alacrity pins them to the mattress with his left hand, leaving me effectively immobilized and the whole of me vulnerable. The sensation of helplessness is new but not at all unpleasant. And then there’s a pause, a breath of waiting, my almost imperceptible nod, consent given for him to do as he would. He thrusts roughly inside me eliciting a moan, my body now desperate for him. “You do get so wet when I’m rough with you. Do you enjoy what I do to you?”

His teasing tone makes me feel like some awkward young girl he’s lured into his bed. “Yes...sir.” He rewards me with another deep thrust, I cry out even louder. 

“Good girl.” He sets an achingly slow pace, but each time he drives so deep into me that I have a blissful sense of being completely filled with him. My wrists sting slightly from the prolonged contact with his left hand, it only adds to the tempest of sensations. He leans down over me, teeth at neck again and my earlobe, I whimper. It spurs him on, his pace suddenly quickening, bringing me to the precipice. There are no thoughts, only the raw physical need for him and my accompanying cries. Suddenly his hand reaches down and he grasps the nipple his teeth stung earlier, pain and pleasure become one I feel myself go over the edge with a gasping moan. He doesn’t slow, his hand back to tangling in my hair, gripping it ferociously as he pushes toward his own climax. One last deep thrust and his own gasp and I feel the sublime pleasure of his seed filling me. 

Through the fog, I feel him move off of me and release my wrists. I’m not free for more than a moment, though this time I’m caught up and find myself laying on his chest, a hand lightly stroking my back. I close my eyes, I can hear his heartbeat, slowing now to a less frantic rhythm. “Enjoy yourself, Kitten?” 

I hear the slight note of concern, did he hurt me at all, is what he really means. “Of course, you couldn’t tell? I thought the whole house would know.” I trace my nails along his chest. 

“I like to hear you say it, to know for sure.” He stops my hand to hold it for a moment and give it a small squeeze.  
“You’re always good to me.” My tone has more sincerity than I intended. There is truth to it though, other than those brief, explosive clashes, he is good to me, in his way. And really who’s to blame that I want more than he’s ever been willing to give. 

He’s silent for a moment. “I do try.” His voice is surprisingly soft, has he caught that subtext. 

“I know.” Is this the limit of his capacity to feel for another? It’s always been said that his whole life he’s never held affection for another person, even his own parents.

He buries his face in my hair for a second, and presses his lips to my head again. “I do have to be off though, I’m expected at the Arena.” 

“Can’t miss that bit of the Solstice festivities.” I’ll take it as a point of pride that he doesn’t sound eager to leave. 

“You could come with.” He still hasn’t made a move to actually get up. 

“Asking and not ordering?” Curious. 

“You did say it bored you.” He finally release his arms from around me. 

“I’ll keep to that position and pass.” I tilt my head to look up at him through my eyelashes. “You could always stay with me.” I blow him a kiss.

He sighs. “You’re incorrigible. Duty first.” 

Reluctantly I move and let him go. I can’t compete with duty. I have my own to attend to anyway. “I’ll be late tonight. Things are going into motion.” 

He stops short on the edge of the bed and turns to furrow his brow at me. “You’re not moving too quickly are you? This is well thought out?” 

“I thought you trusted me? Don’t worry about it, let me do this my way.” I sit and stretch, pulling up my knees to my chest as I watch him get dressed. Gods he really is handsome. I hate the way his proximity always makes my heart feel like it’s beating out of my chest. 

He comes back to hover over me. “I do trust you, you know that.” He reaches out and cups my cheek, running his thumb along it, reminding me of that first night months ago. I lift my eyes up to meet his, it’s impossible to read anything it that piercing gaze. “Just...make sure to be careful Kitten.”

Drawing breath is suddenly difficult. “When am I not?” I shoot him a smile that I hope is lighter than I’m feeling. He needs to go, I can’t handle him like this, teetering on the edge of affection.

“Impossible and incorrigible.” He brushes his lips against mine and then he’s gone, leaving me more unsteady than I’d like. 

Now that I’m alone I slip on a robe and head for the bath for a long soak and likely some irritating self-reflection. First, though I dig out the case tucked into the back of the wardrobe underneath all the silks and lace that contains my supply of moon’s blessing. I open a vial of the silvery liquid and down it, the metallic tang stuck on my tongue. The alchemical potion ensures that I won’t conceive, the last thing I’d want to add to this already gnarled situation is a pregnancy. 

When the hot water finally envelopes me I close my eyes and try to clear my mind, let myself just be for a moment. But all I see is bits and flashes of last night, the whispers coming from all around us, the crowds melting out of his path and consequently mine. To them, I’d become what they all thought I was, his ornament, his pet. Clearly, mother had thought so. Damn it, I’d been so eager to lash out at him for it. Everything was his doing, I’d wanted an excuse to storm off and be angry with him. He wouldn’t let me though. 

Solitude and time bring clarity, my own choices led me here. It just happens that one of those choices was him. I thought I was choosing my freedom over everything else. He changed that and I never tried to walk away. Now I’m stuck with these feelings and wanting something I’ll never have. Time to make another choice. I could stay, let go of my resentment, and do what I promised, serve him and the Empire. Or I could walk away, if he’d let me. I think of last night, when I finally let it all go, the way we felt together. It was like it used to be between us. 

I sink down below the water, feeling the warmth from the now strong sunlight blazing through the fogged glass next to the copper tub. The darkest night of the year is over. I hold my breath as long as I can and then reemerge, certain of my path. I will let go of what I cannot have, but I will remain by his side. It’s time to refocus on being a blade for the Empire and he is still my Grand General. To that end, tonight I’ll carry out the task he’s set me on. 

Gwen is in my room when I return to it, carefully returning tiny jeweled hairpins to their box. “Morning, Madame.” I can always count on her to not be irritatingly cheerful during the morning. “I won’t be long.” 

“That’s fine.” I wave her off. “Everything was left a bit scattered.” 

She nods, not all together hiding an insinuating look. “I hear you were quite the subject of fascination last night.” 

Fantastic, was the whole city talking about me. “Where did you that?” I snap, more harshly than I intended. 

Her eyes go wide and she takes a step back from me. “O-other servants Madame. I know quite a few in other houses.” 

“Really?” This could be an opportunity. A scheme quickly unfolds itself in my mind. “You’ve got a little gossip network?” I close the distance between us bearing down on her. It’s clear from a moment ago that despite our cordial relationship, she hasn’t forgotten I’m dangerous. “Would you be willing to put it to use for me?” 

She breathes in deep, giving herself time. “You mean get them to act as your spies? That might discomfit some of them.” Cautious but not quailed, I do like her. 

“There must be those that are unhappy with their place or treatment.” I switch tactics, adopting a honeyed tone. “We could compensate them for their troubles, you and I.”

“You and I?” That implication of partnership piqued her interest, Gwen’s ambition may one day be the end of her. 

“Of course, I’ll need you to have all direct contact, including payment. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t directly bring my name into it.” I step back, let her make up her mind.

“Well, there may be some who would be interested.” No doubt she’ll be skimming off the top, I’d expect nothing less.

“See, perfect. We’ll do good work together.” It strikes me that this exactly the kind of scheme Jericho would come up with. I can see that irritatingly smug look he’d have on his face if he knew about it. “Have I finally taught you a thing or two Kitten.” “Let’s begin with the Montrose household. Any possibilities?”

She stops to think, drumming her fingers on the dressing table for a moment, before snapping them quickly. “The kitchen boy, he feels rather unfairly treated if I recall.”

Perfect. “Approach him, he may be needed rather quickly.”

She finally places the last of the hairpins in the box and moves to onto the necklace. I suppress a slight smile, it had been one of our better moments when he gifted it to me. Gwen’s voice pulls me out of my reverie. “What will keep him, or any of them, quiet if something befalls one of their Master’s?” 

“Fear. They’re selling secrets to a whisper in the dark and they have no one to point to but a fellow servant. You can back out now if you have your doubts.” If I’ve read her well enough she won’t even consider it.

Now she meets my eyes, resolute. “No, I’m with you, Madame.” 

“Excellent.” Her tasks complete she bows slightly and starts to take her leave. “And Gwen,” she pauses at the doorway, “I don’t suppose I’ll need to warn you about betraying me.” 

She visibly stiffens. She should remember that little bit of fear from earlier. “Of course not Madame.” 

Gwen’s exit leaves me alone with far too many hours in front of what needs to be done. Tonight is the last of the potential converts before I wrest control of the Guild from its current leadership. Inara and Lark will be on hand in case we need to move on any of those individuals tonight. The sun crawls through its course as I wait for darkness to fall. I don’t even bother to think Jericho might return to be a distraction, he’ll have his own plots to attend to. 

I sharpen my daggers, go over the plan in my mind searching for weaknesses, and read a bit from the little imported Piltovan paperback I keep tucked under my mattress. Gods forbid Jericho ever lay eyes on it, I’d never be able to face him again. Bea comes to perch by me for a bit, preening and talking, she’s my usual afternoon company whenever he’s not home. Today she poses for me, looking so pleased with herself when I call her a pretty bird that I have to pull out my charcoals and sketch her a bit. This is why I hate being up early, nothing interesting ever happens in the daylight. 

Finally, the sun starts to dip behind the horizon, the hour is upon me. Well-armed and steeled for what must be done, I slip out into the garden, avoiding the gate and the main road. I don’t silence the door as it shuts behind me. The noise must draw the attention of who Fex rushes around the corner of the house only to stop and give me a curt nod before walking away again. It’s intriguing that they’re out patrolling. Most great Houses in Noxus have a few guards, a holdover from the days when each House kept a Warband in the city. Fex and Dras are Trifarian veterans and they hold their positions as a matter of tradition and in honor of their service to the Empire. The demon typically makes Jericho less than cautious, it’s concerning that he’s put them on active duty. 

I’d found him hunched over his desk, in the midst of a vision the day of that asset comment. I’d mostly forgotten it after the turmoil between us and recruiting Lark. I’d sat at the edge of the desk, enough space to ensure my safety as he’d warned me of the dangers previously, and waited for it to pass. When finally his eyes opened slightly I came to his side and ran my hand through his hair until I felt the tension in him ease. He kept what he saw a closely guarded secret but it must have indicated a clear threat. I bury my unease and resolve to push him for real answers later. If I’m in this with him, I deserve to be trusted with what he knows. 

I scale the wall of our arranged meeting spot, a half-abandoned temple to some god whose name I forget, the cold biting into me without a cloak to protect me. No layers tonight, I need to move as swift as possible. We’re on the border between Old Town and the whole district of temples that sprung up around the Immortal Bastion. If legend is to be believed, those temples were a reaction of jubilance for the destruction of the Iron Revenant that once ruled here. Our target is another of Old Town’s nobles, Lara Ingritt, her and I know each other well enough. Her house is an ancient crumbling structure attained from a family that fell out of favor during Darkwill’s reign. She’s currently not only part of the Guild’s inner circle of leadership, but an Officer of Noxian Intelligence. It’s typical for the Guild and Intelligence to be intimately tied together, as was the case with my father. 

In addition to the work it does for Noxus, Intelligence has it’s own plots and intrigues within itself. It serves the Trifarix outwardly but within, it echoes the Empire itself with many factions contending with one another. Tonight I’ll find out which side Ingrirtt can be numbered amongst. With one last hoist, I peer over the edge of the roof, making sure it’s clear of threats before propelling myself upward and landing in a crouch as Lark and Inara turn at the noise, suddenly on guard. I give them a wicked smile. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”


	12. Katarina

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latest update - pulled from my post-Christmas haze. I went back and added some tracks from my playlist for a couple chapters, if you're interested check it out.   
> This chapter's playlist song   
> Joan Jett - Bad Reputation  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/7pu8AhGUxHZSCWTkQ2eb5M?si=bs1WTi4mSXGrwK7CnxerCQ

Inara rolls her eyes. “If you’re done with your dramatic entrance, can we get started?” She gestures impatiently to the ponderous house below us. 

“My apologies, I must have mistook myself for the one in charge of this mission.” I give her a flat look and she finally cracks a smile as Lark sighs at us. “Don’t worry Lark, banter is over. You both know who we need to move on if this doesn’t go in our favor. Wait for me, we’ll move as one in that case. If I don’t come back at all, leave, pretend none of this ever happened.”

Inara gives me a dark look. “Should one of us let him know, in the case that you don’t come back?” 

It hadn’t crossed my mind that he would need to be informed if I should fail. Nothing that happened in the city seemed to escape his knowing. Yet suppose he didn’t know this time? Would he believe the worst of me, that I had betrayed him and vanished into the night? “Go to the servant’s door, ask for Gwen, my maid, she’ll see that he’s told.” 

“Your what now?” Oh, gods. At least that’s brought the mirth back to her expression. 

“What? Am I supposed to get into those fancy dresses all by myself?” I know she’ll laugh at that, I need to hear it just now. The weight of this moment is starting to settle onto me and I drag my hand through my hair. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” 

“Of course, whatever you say...Madame Swain.” That even manages to draw a chuckle from Lark. It catches me off guard though and I feel a blush creep up my cheeks. I’m granted a reprieve as neither of them offer a comment on it. 

I ready myself at the edge of the roof. One well placed jump and I’ll be on the house below us. “See you on the other side.”

I take a few paces back and give myself a running start. I spring off the roof, for a moment it feels like flying, and the other roof rushes toward me. As I land, I roll, spreading the force and breaking my momentum. The darkened turrets make an ideal entry point. They, much like the House guards, belong to a bygone era, and many, like Jericho’s, ended up as neglected spaces. 

The archaic window gives way easily, admitting me into the blackness within. She should be just returning from the festivities at the arena, bloodshed for the masses, the condemned dying in the most spectacular fashion, and a lucky few winning pardons. Cobwebs and dust have gathered over crates and bits of furniture, as I suspected, it’s been abandoned to time. I put my foot out and test the spiral staircase that leads downward, it seems sturdy enough. I descend, stepping lightly to avoid the groaning of the ancient wood, passing the attic, and stopping at the next floor. I lean down to the keyhole, holding my breath, there’s every chance this door has been sealed over. Light shines through, one small victory. I put my ear to it and listen, there’s no noise emanating from the house beyond. I crack it ever so slightly, holding my breath as it creaks in the emptiness. No movement, no signs of life. Perfect, I slip out and shut it softly behind me. 

Voices begin the carry up from the stairs, she’s in the company of her guards, as expected. I only need to be patient for that to be remedied. I slip through the gaudily furnished hall in shadows, the Ingritts apparently have a deep need to display their wealth. I make for the master suite, another exercise in ostentatiousness, entering the bedchamber to lay in wait. 

She gives her final orders to the guards for the night before she enters, unaccompanied. Her back is to me as she shuts the door presenting me with a temptation to end her and avoid bothering with persuasion. But no, her support would be valuable. “Hello, Lara.” 

“So you’ve finally come.” She laughs. “Your whole absurd operation has become too easy to anticipate”

I feel a spark of anger, we’ve been exposed. I reach for my daggers, preparing for this talk to go very poorly. “Then you know what I’m here to offer.” 

She turns toward me, confidence making her movements unhurried, her features imperious. “Join this ill-advised coup and hand the Guild over to the Usurper’s little pet? No, I don’t think I will. There’s a reason your father rejected you.” The chain whip coiled at her side suddenly sings through the air. I leap back, avoiding the sharp blade at the tip, drawing the daggers I had gripped. “You’re weak Katarina, you need to be led. With your father gone, you simply found someone else to do that.” 

She touches a deep well of rage that roils at her words, I feel something inside me snap. How many times will my past errors be weapons against me? How much more will I have to hear about my disgrace, my father’s disappointment? There’s only been one person, despite his failings, who has seen more in me. “I’m taking the Guild, it belongs to me. If you choose to stand in my way then so be it.” I let a dagger fly in her direction, her chain whip flashing out to block it, predictable. I use the moment she’s committed herself to that action and I close the distance between us, coming to her side. 

She tries to change the momentum of her weapon, recovering faster than I anticipated. I leap back as she succeeds in bringing it back toward my direction. The blade catches me though, rending open the flesh of my thigh. Through the adrenaline, I can’t tell how deep it goes, but I feel the hot trickle of blood working its way down my leg. 

I draw another dagger and feint to my left, keeping my eyes locked on her weapon. Her hand makes the slightest movement, I wait. The whip begins to fly towards me, I dive to the other side, hurtling myself full speed at her. Her weapon, committed to where she thought I’d be, is useless to her. The blade in my hand tears into her throat, ripping it open. Blood erupts and she uselessly grasps at the wound. “Tell me again about my weakness, Lara.” 

Her hands still and her knees buckle. She gasps her last breaths as she collapses to the floor in a sanguine pool. I finally become aware of a stinging in my thigh and look down to find a wound several inches long. I withdraw a bandage from a pouch on my belt and staunch the flow of blood as much as possible, I don’t need to leave a trail. We’ll need to move on the others now before word of Lara’s death gets out. I push open one of the windows, gritting my teeth against its whine of protest, must everything in this house sound like it’s falling apart. I take a blind leap into the space between this house and the next, haste is more important now than secrecy, and sprint at full speed to the temple. 

Lark and Inara await me in silent anticipation. They know as soon as I appear that the recruitment wasn’t successful. “Our other three need to be done, now. We’ve been found out somehow, keep your wits about you and show no mercy.”

Inara shoots a glance at my leg, the blood now darkening the bandage. “Are you sure you can handle this? 

“I’m fine!” It comes out harsher than I expected. Her eyes widen, but she says nothing. “Fucking hell.” I tear off the reddened bandage and replace it quickly, tying it tighter than before, while giving orders. “Use our next agreed on rendezvous. Approach it cautiously, we don’t know who knows what.” I take a breath as I finish. The steady flow of blood is concerning, but I won’t let them see that. 

We scatter, each moving with lightning pace. It’s only a matter of time before the body is discovered and we lose the advantage of surprise. My last target tonight brings the saga of me, my family, and the Guild full circle. My father’s cousin, Marius, he’d taken primary leadership of the Guild when my father “disappeared”. He’d nearly begged me to assume a role by his side with Talon leaving on his doomed search. It had nothing to do with familial loyalty though, I was the best chance he had to secure his position. I’d told him what I’d told Jericho initially about all this, and it had been the truth at the time, I wasn’t a leader. When I left home for Jericho’s he’d dared to come howling at the gate, demanding a word with his “dear cousin”. It was one of the rare times I was thankful for Moira’s bullheaded tendencies, demanding was not an attitude that would get you nowhere with her. Instead, he’d left me a letter filled with rage and curses. He even dared to guilt me about mother being all alone, I’d tossed it in the fire as soon as I read it. 

I never told her I was leaving, I just did, and let the gossip circles tell her where I was. It was satisfying to rip that control from her hands. She’d hated me for as long as I could remember. Her political scheming and maneuvering meant everything to her, and my birth went wrong, keeping her out of society for longer than it should have. At least that was the tale told to me by my nurse. Or maybe it was the whispers I heard when I was older that she never wanted children, but I was thrust on her by duty and expectation. Either way, the result was the same and none of it mattered much now.

After the revels at the Arena, Marius would be in his favorite brothel, Father and I had collected him from there a number of times. The well-appointed mansion in Goldstone that looked so ordinary from the outside and yet within the upper class of the Capitol indulged their every fantasy. It had been built when Goldstone was established for that very purpose, rising as a hidden playground among the newly constructed buildings. This whole area had once been a slum that was razed by fire. The new money moved in after and made their own enclave in direct opposition to the nobles shuttered away in Old Town. Of course, everyone knew that the fire was intentional, but for the poor who lived here, there had been no justice. With his endless wars needing endless resources, Darkwill was uninterested in the crimes of the rich. 

Tonight it works in my favor, the two districts being intentionally close, giving me not far to run. The gash in my thigh is a constant stinging and I feel the bandage growing moist again. The modern aesthetic had every building in Goldstone built to nearly the same height and I easily glide from rooftop to rooftop, closing the distance to my target. A figure looms before me, standing on a roof, still as a statue, clad in red, pale and unearthly. Him. I stop short, reaching for a dagger. “Far from home tonight, aren’t you little Kat?” His voice is haughty, yet rich and seductive at the same time. 

For a moment I wonder if he was the stalker, but no, that wouldn’t be his way. This fiend rarely deigns to involve himself. “What do you want?” The dagger slips from its sheath. 

He laughs, a cold and mirthless sound. “You would try to challenge me, you hopelessly fearless child. I’m only here with a warning, from her.” She must be desperate to impress me if she convinced him to act as a messenger. “There is no going back from what you plan to do. So far you have been considered merely a pawn in this game, but this will change your standing, make you a target. Turn back, return to your family. You would not need to fear vengeance from him, the Black Rose will protect you.”

I roll my eyes at his words.“Like they protected Cass and my father? I’m through with others deciding my fate.”

“Yet you do this all for the man who made you a pawn in the first place, his personal weapon. In the Black Rose, you could command a greater destiny.” He holds out a hand, the invitation awaiting my response. 

I’m out of time for this. I know what loyalty to them means and I’ve had enough of it in my life. “Fight me or let me pass, either way, shut up.” 

He sighs in an intentionally dramatic manner. “As you wish.” Then he bows gracefully and takes a step back off the edge of the roof, vanishing into the night. Fantastic, another vague happening to worry about. We’ll have to figure out what his appearance portents later. 

With the way clear, I fly across the last few buildings, making a clean leap to the roof of the brothel. Fortunately, Marius usually makes use of a suite on the top floor. I’ve lost too much time to worry about subtlety. I drop down, grab the edge of the roof and propel myself forward, kicking in the window. The glass shattering in the still night sounds more like an explosion. I land and immediately draw blades. There’s a couple of frightened cries as both a young man and woman scamper from the bed. “Two cousin? Your greed really is boundless.”

He scrambles about, looking for a way to defend himself. “This is how you choose to do this Katarina?”

In truth, Marius has always been enough of a warrior that I’d rather it not be this way. But if I want the Guild there is no choice. “Get out!” I snarl at the two confounded whores and charge him. I don’t need them being a distraction. They’re quick to comply, but I won’t have long before they alert the house’s guards. 

He finally retrieves a single dagger and brings it up to block my downward slash. I over-committed while he was unarmed and can’t get away as his fist slams into my face, knocking me off balance, I lose my grip on my dagger. I reel backward, tasting blood in my mouth, as he gets his feet under him. Changing tactics, I reach for another dagger, balanced for throwing. Marius no longer knows me as he once did, I doubt he’ll predict what I’m doing. I throw it, intentionally sailing it to his right, leaving myself an open target for him. 

He takes the opportunity, pouncing at me, dagger ready for the kill. I spring out of the way, preparing my own strike. He reads what I’m doing, changing trajectory, managing to drag his blade along my stomach. It’s not deep, more of a scratch, but still, I feel a warm trickle coming from it. I’ve had enough. 

I don’t fall back, taking him by surprise. I spin, and land a kick to his knee, knocking it to the side with an audible pop. He brings the knife up in a wild defensive gesture, but I’m no longer there. Now I’m at his back, and my dagger drives deep into him, piercing a lung. He turns when I withdraw it, still trying to fight me. I plunge it into his heart, ending this. 

He falls backward, eyes wide in shock, the second of my family that I’ve stolen the life from. No time to contemplate now, I hear the thud of boots on the stairs and put my fingers to his neck to check for a pulse. Nothing. I make my exit quickly just as I hear the door behind me start to open. 

Our last meet is at one of Lark’s little hidden homes, this one a suite of rooms at the heart of an abandoned manor in Old Town. Instead of an ancient, crumbling mausoleum deserted ages ago, this one seems to have been cared for until fairly recently. The family was very likely targeted in one of Jericho’s purges. Lark is already there, casually perched on a faded damask sofa. “Oh, your poor face, good thing we waited until after Solstice. I take it you succeeded with your cousin?”

I smile, it feels hollow somehow, but I need him to feel confident in what we’ve done. “Of course, and it looks the same for you.” 

The door crashes open with Inara’s entrance, her body language exudes rage, but her eyes are strangely calm. “Somebody fucking warned him, he’s in the wind.” There’s blood spattered everywhere on her and she clenches and unclenches her fists in rapid succession. “He had his people covering his escape, I tried to get through them.” 

I need to get her calm and rational. “Still, he’ll go to ground, he won’t be in the way while we secure our position. We’ll deal with him if he returns.”

“Whatever. Now what?” Both of them turn to me. 

“None of them will act without leadership in place. They’ll be scrabbling around to take it for themselves. Lark, you need to make sure they meet tomorrow night, that’s when we take what’s ours. For now, we part, keep yourselves secure.”

The adrenaline has started wearing off as we part ways into different ends of the city and without it, I feel the icy air razor sharp against my skin as I make my way back home. The burning in my thigh has never let up and I feel a thudding ache across my face. And yet, I am triumphant. And what of Marius, another of my kin, dead for mine and Jericho’s ambitions. We had trained and sparred together once. He was not quite as old as my father and served as a mentor when I was young. He too though turned on me when my father sought to replace me. And they all turned away from the greater good of the Empire when the finally relented to mother and chose the Pale Woman. Let him rot, he clearly was informed about what I was after and didn’t make the least effort to even contact me. Unless it was him that’s been following me. Time will tell. 

For now, I need to concentrate my efforts on finishing taking control of the Guild. Despite my initial hesitation, this would have been the path meticulously laid out for me as a child. I’m tired of being just Du Couteau’s failed daughter or the Grand General’s whore. I want to make my own fate, to leave my own legacy, to make the Guild truly mine. Despite it being for his own ends, I do owe Jericho for pushing me in this direction. His ability to read me so well is still deeply unsettling at times.

I sneak through the house as silently as possible, no windows this time. My lamps have been left on, that was kind of him. The sting of the wound demands my attention and I dig through my wardrobe to withdraw a small box. As I cut away the remnants of my clothing around it, I realize that the best way to truly see it is to perch on my dressing table and use the mirror. It’s deep, but no major vessels have been torn, although blood still slowly drips from it. No way around it, it needs to be stitched. I growl to myself as I clean it and dab it with a numbing agent. 

I thread the needle while I wait for it to do its work. When it’s a good as it will get, I draw a deep breath, I’m still going to feel some of this. “I distinctly remember telling you to be careful.” 

“Seriously, right now! Shut up, for once, Jericho.” The last thing I need at the moment is a smug I told you so. 

I go back to attempting to start the stitches. “You’re going to butcher that. We should get a healer.”

“No healers.” I spit through gritted teeth. I hate healers. 

He storms over and rips the needle out of my hand, dropping into the chair in front of me. “Turn around.” He motions for me to turn the wound towards him. 

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” This isn’t the first time I’ve had to do this, I don’t know about him. 

“Don’t you trust me?” He echoes my words from earlier in the day, is he really teasing me right now? I make a frustrated noise, give in and turn for him to look at it. “Already numb?” I nod. “Don’t flinch.”

He drives the needle through my flesh, I clench my jaw and dig my fingers into the edge of the table. I still feel each puncture and pull, somewhat muted, but I’m still clearly aware of them. I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing, inhale, exhale. Finally, I feel him stop and tie off the last stitch. “There, not bad at all.”

I look down, from what I can see, he did a better job than I would have. I’m loathe to admit it though. “Only slightly crooked.” He doesn’t respond, instead, he begins wrapping it in gauze. A small pang of guilt tugs at me, that was unnecessarily mean. I look anywhere but at him. “Sorry.” I nearly whisper. 

“Don’t worry about it Kitten.” He kisses my leg softly, just above the line of gauze, my heart thuds. “Tell me how it went.” I think about everything that transpired and realize how truly, deeply tired I am. All the adrenaline has finally worn off now that I’m home and no longer bleeding and a slight foreboding- for the future takes its place. My life has changed inexorably. Without much thought, I slide down into his lap and lean my head against his chest, yearning for that comfort I feel in his arms. For a moment he doesn’t respond and I worry he’ll push me away again. Then I feel his arms wrap around me and he kisses the top of my head. “I hope you don’t start expecting to be spoiled like this all the time.”

“No, just most of the time.” He doesn’t retort as usual for us, instead, he quietly strokes my hair for a few moments. Sometimes, I’d give anything to know exactly what he’s thinking. “Anyway, it’s been a hell of a night.”

I stay leaning against him as I detail the night’s events and I hear as he sharply inhales when I mention the warning I was sent and the messenger. “I wasn’t expecting him to be bothered to get involved.” 

I look up at him, feeling a little betrayed. “You knew it was possible though. Be honest with me, there is more to this than you’ve let me know and the Black Rose is involved.” 

He hesitates, how deep does his trust in me go. “The visions indicate there is a conspiracy of some sort. It has been endlessly frustrating trying to flush them out. Putting the Guild in your hands was one of the many steps I took to get Black Rose loyalists out of power. Other than that, I’ve been chasing shadows and waiting for them to make a mistake.” I can feel the animosity and irritation in his words, but still, he’s kept this from me. 

“He let me go and I ended Marius, but we were exposed before we started tonight. And I’ve been followed, as you know. If I had all the information I may have planned this differently. If you want me in this with you, no more secrets.” The steel in my tone surprises even me. 

He considers my words and then lets out a sigh. “I suppose it was unfair to keep it from you.” My eyes get wide, that was entirely unexpected. “Don’t look at me like that, I can admit when I was wrong. I will remedy that in the future. But for now, go get some sleep, you look tired.” 

Reluctantly I stand, gingerly putting weight on my leg. “Coming?” 

“No, I...” I glare at him, I’m not the only one who looks tired. “I’ll get the lamps first. Be right along Kitten.”


	13. Katarina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things get a bit dark here. Please read with care. As always - feel free to comment or message.
> 
> Playlist Song:  
> Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine  
> https://open.spotify.com/track/0CSTvWUps1YmpQoXXay9ol?si=8lWwry8VSomWMwTiK5v7Yw

He’s already gone when I awake, of course, the sun indicating that it’s already near mid-day. How do I still feel tired? I roll over and stare at the canopy above me, reliving the feeling of him undressing me last night and pulling me into his arms before sleep overtook me. It’s maddening. No, I’ll continue in my resolve to see nothing in it, to not give meaning where there is none. I suppress the memory and pull myself from bed, heading to my room to dress for the day. A note waits for me on my dressing table, written in his measured script, exacting and precise, as would be expected from him. 

“I trust tonight the Guild will be meeting and you will take control of it with little resistance. Once you have that firmly in hand I require a task of you. Augustus Montrose must be eliminated tonight, he’s begun to realize the alliance between his sister and myself. As always, take care of yourself. - J”  
“PS. I was informed that you were almost out of that violet perfume you always wear.” 

I finally notice the ornate glass bottle to the left of where the note was, full of the aforementioned scent. My reward for being a good little pet. I wonder what Augustus’s death will earn me. That poor little idiot, he tried so desperately to be important and powerful, he’s earned a death sentence instead. I’d almost feel bad for him, but getting in that deep with any faction in Noxian politics is basically asking to be struck down at any moment. 

After I’m dressed I ring for Gwen and she appears in short order, always eager to be of use. “Yes Madame.” She has a sober look to her face, as if she already has sensed why she’s here. 

I sit at the dressing table and examine the wide bruise that has bloomed on the right side of my face. “I’ll need your kitchen boy to come through, I need to know where Montrose intends to be tonight.” 

In the mirror, I see her expression change to one of smug self-satisfaction. “As it turns out, I took the initiative to inquire after him this morning. He complained that tonight another elaborate dinner party has been planned, even after all the Solstice revels. Montrose is celebrating some new, powerful friends he’s made.”

I stop and turn towards her. “Did he mention a woman at all, unusually pale?” How deep is he in, what are we about to stir up?

She bites her lip and shakes her head. “No, just some of the usual nobility who rankle at the loss of privilege they’ve experienced. He’ll stay in the kitchens after dinner and the other servants have been dismissed. Knock if you see no movement inside.” 

Well, we won’t be taking a piece off the board that she’ll desperately miss. “Perfect, thank you, Gwen, that will be all.” I dismiss her with a gesture and turn my attention to readying myself for the Guild tonight. Augustus will be easy to find when I’m ready for him. 

Weapons sharpened and muscles stretched in case of confrontation, Inara, Lark, and I gather early in the Guild’s headquarters, finding it empty thanks to a generous bribe I supplied via Lark. The unassuming building sits amidst a group of others housing various government functions. While most of High Command still functions from within the Immortal Bastion itself, bureaucracy has spread like a fungus to the area around it. It’s a reflection of the temple district in that way, both of them evolving over the years with Noxus itself, Old Town pressing up against them both and the Bastion as the nobility grappled for power. In times past, the Grand General dwelt in the Immortal Bastion, making it the ultimate seat of power. Jericho is different, preferring the control he has over his own family home to the mysteries and hidden spaces where a plot could come to fruition at any time. Of course, he still has unfettered access to it anytime he wishes. The Guild’s place here would shock outsiders who don’t understand it’s place within Noxus. Assassination has never been a method that our government or military has considered off-limits. The position in Intelligence of a Guild Officer enables the government to make use of its services at will, effectively making the it an unofficial branch of High Command. 

I spent countless hours here as a child before our move to Shurima, and many more once we returned. I know all its twists and turns and nooks and crannies as well as that of my own family’s home. I even pass a small alcove I remember as a favorite of mine for spying, shrinking into the shadows as a child to listen to the adults around me. We clear the rambling structure room by room, including any hidden ones and secret passages that I know of, ensuring no one is lying in wait. Next, all secondary exits are secured, leaving only the main door as the way in or out. When I’m satisfied that everything is in place, Inara and I retreat to a side room off the main hall, to await or moment. 

They trickle in through the next couple of hours, Inara and I taking shifts pressed up against the door to listen, some voices we recognize, some are unknown. Someone opens a stored cask of ale, they drink and converse, some begin to openly mourn the fallen. There’s a rising tide among them, confirmed dead members, Marius among them, who is targeting them? For what reason? Suspicions are aimed everywhere, including the Grand General. When the time is right, Lark raps on the wall next our hiding space, three sharp knocks, it’s time. 

We emerge and push through the crowd to the very center, gasps and whispers following in our wake as recognition dawns on them. Time seems slow, this is it, the moment there’s no going back from. Now that I’ve come to it though, I know that every step I’ve taken has lead me here. Perhaps there is such a thing as destiny, and this is mine. Destiny or not, I am no longer General Du Couteau’s shamed daughter, and no longer the Grand General’s pet, I am Commander of the Assasin’s Guild, a force and entity in my own right. 

“Brothers and sisters, your leaders are dead. They were weak and have paid the price for that. I stand before you now to take my rightful place in their stead, as your Commander.” Raucous noise breaks out among them, the three we recruited before this passionately on my side in the debate. 

The din reaches its crescendo and a woman steps to the forefront. “You would deliver us into the hands of the Usurper, to be used as his weapon.” 

I snort, someone was bound to put this forth. “The Grand General is the rightful ruler of Noxus, along with the others of the Trifarix. The Guild will support High Command as it always has, nothing more, nothing less.”

“So says the Grand Whore. Do you believe you can deceive…” She’s cut off by the dagger that flies from my hand and buries in her chest. I’m weary of the same nonsense being spewed over and over again.

No other moves to challenge me, they’re undecided, for the moment. “As I was saying.” Inara covers the fallen in a cloak and moves her discreetly out of the crowd. “Our numbers have dwindled, our coffers are depleted, and those arrogant bastard ‘guilds’ take our potential recruits. Let us rectify this, and find our strength once again. We’ll scour the lessor guilds from Noxus, once and for all, and become the power we were meant to be.” 

Father made a grave error in his leadership, he finally succumbed to the Black Rose. His single-minded pursuit of their objectives took a toll on the Guild. I can see it in their faces, they hunger for a return to glory. The murmuring returns, this time it begins to swing in my favor. She took down Marius, we would have the Grand General’s support, she’s here and Marcus is not. Lark joins in, adding to the momentum, a vote is called for. I take note and the slim few who still dissent, they’ll have to be watched. When it finally ends, I’m officially Guild Commander Katarina Du Couteau, with Lark and Inara acting as seneschals. 

My first order of business is just as I promised, both the Guild and Jericho, I assign a few of our members to begin tracking our competition. My second act is far less exciting, Inara and I head to the archives to understand the degree of disorder things have fallen to, leaving Lark to monitor for any fresh discord. I have some time before it will be clear to go after Augustus. I had briefly considered assigning someone else to the task, but I’m familiar with the Montrose estate. I suppose it’s fitting, he once said I stole his heart, now I’ll steal his life. 

The Guild records are a shambles that reflect the last few years of leadership. I thumb through the latest records, noting the brazen embezzlement, and stare longingly at the fire. Inara laughs at me from behind a stack of loose papers belonging to gods know where. “Didn’t think this would be the hard part?” 

I lay my head down on the desk. “How did it get this bad? Is this a Guild of idiots?” 

“This is what happens when we rely on anyone who volunteers to do this. We only get thieves and idiots.” She sighs as she tosses the stack back down in front of her. 

“Nevermind, I resign my position.” That gets a small laugh from her and her eyes brighten a bit. I stand and stretch, time to get the blood flowing back into my limbs. “I’m done, I’ve got some other business to handle.” 

“Happy hunting, Commander.” For all that we have a mess ahead of us to deal with, there’s satisfaction about her. It makes me even more proud of what we’ve accomplished here tonight. 

The city is quiet, still wrapped in a snowy mantle from the other night. I move through the streets in welcome solitude, reaching the Montrose estate with ease. With my cloak tucked around me, I watch the kitchen from the garden, someone has left a lamp burning so I can see the vague shapes within. When I’m finally satisfied that no unwanted company is around, I approach, keeping my cloak tight, and tap lightly. It only takes a second before a scrawny young man with dirty blonde hair cracks the door, the corners of his mouth up turning into a vicious smile the second he sees me. “He’s saying a drunken farewell to his guests, a girl awaits him in the blue parlor upstairs.” With that he vanishes up the servant stairs, leaving me with free reign. 

With the other servants all withdrawn to their quarters the halls of the manor are as silent as the grave. I cautiously stalk through them, not making a sound, nearing the blue parlor. My plan is to take the girl first and wait for him. Quick and clean, he won’t even know what happened. Then I hear it, from a room back near the main staircase, that ancient snarling voice. “Augustus, you spoiled little hedonist, where are you?” 

“Coming Grandmother!” His impatient reply comes from the bottom of the stairs. Life is good sometimes. 

The old woman is ensconced in an over-decorated bedroom that’s rotten with faded glory. I slip in and silently shut the door behind me. She scrambles to prop herself up in bed, she knows I’m not her grandson. Her eyes have begun to fail though, so that’s all she can make out. “Wh-who’s there?” She summons some power to her voice, she’s so used to being obeyed. She and many others are relics of old Noxus, a time when the nobility were parasites, feeding off the strength of the Empire. They are a vain, petty, self-absorbed, lot whose time has passed. 

I steal to her side and she makes a quiet gasp as her eyes finally reveal me. “Death Lady Montrose, death is among you tonight.” She makes to cry out but my hand slams down over her mouth. “This will be the fate of all who refuse to bend to the Empire’s new order.” I slide my blade between her ribs and down into her heart, a task made easy since she has no strength to struggle against me with. She slumps forward, her lifeblood draining into her fine bed covers. 

There are footsteps in the hall, Augustus finally decided to answer his grandmother’s summons, and I slip behind the door to await him. It's only a moment before he throws it open snarling. “What do you want, you old bat?”

Three steps in and he finally takes in the scene before him, coming to a dead stop. I softly shut the door once again. He sucks in a breath as if he wants to scream and then I’m right behind him, breathing down his neck quite literally. He laughs, a mirthless sound. “Two nights. I was allowed to live two nights after getting too close to you. He’s certainly possessive.” 

“Don’t be dramatic. This is about something entirely beyond you and me.” He’s unnervingly pliant as I put the dagger to his throat. Poor, weak Augustus, he doesn’t even know how to resist me. He sniffles when he feels it against his skin, all his bravado evaporated. He’s not the first I’ve seen to shed tears at their end and I’m not inclined to be moved by it. 

“I would’ve done great things, you could have joined me at my side, Kat.” The words are marred by a strangled sobbing that he fights to keep from overtaking him. Back firm, but shoulders quaking, he struggles to meet his end with dignity. 

“I’m already doing great things.” I dig the edge of the blade into his flesh and a whimper escapes him. His knees buckle immediately and I step back from him as his life flows into the plush carpet. It’s not long before a shudder marks his last breath. 

Surveying the carnage around me I realize I may have gone a bit far with the old woman’s death. If Coraline faces repercussions from it Jericho will be furious. But then again, I smile to myself, it had been deeply satisfying putting an end to that bulwark of old Noxus. Either way, it is done and can’t be changed. I’ll need to slip out before that girl gets impatient and comes looking for Augustus. 

I find the kitchen door left slightly ajar after heading back down the servant stairs. I shut it fast behind me and return to the waiting darkness of the night. It’s been a long night and I feel it in the stitched wound in my leg and the aching bruise on my face, and it feels wondrous. Tonight I am triumphant. I finally have what my father once promised to me. I took it with strength and cunning, as a Noxian should. Would father be proud? Perhaps I should go ask mother, a cruel, petty voice inside whispers. No, forget it. I’m beyond her, she’s nothing, a ghost haunting the ruin of her own life. The rage I have toward her will not be so easily extinguished though. 

I focus myself back on the Guild, that thundering sensation as the crowd declared for me. I feel pride welling up in me, my confidence soaring. I’m damned self-satisfied and achingly confident as I approach the house. I wonder if Jericho is awake. He shouldn’t be but he rarely sleeps as much as he ought to. If he is, we should celebrate tonight’s success. The thought of him whispering in my ear about how pleased he is with me sends a shiver through me. 

I’m broken out of my reverie by the sight of Dras shutting the gate. Odd that it’s open at this hour. He looks up at me and quickly looks away, but movement on the stairs has already drawn my attention. Jericho, he stops at the door when he hears me on the walk behind him. Breathing becomes difficult as I ascend the stairs to where he’s paused. I’ve always known I wasn’t the only one, I’ve just never had to viscerally confront it until this moment. 

“Kat.” He already sounds like he’s going to attempt some insincere apology. I brush past him, an ache spreading through my chest. Then it hits me, the cloying smell of decaying roses, the scent that always marks her presence. Her, why her? Of course, it’s all another little power game to him. He puts a hand on my shoulder.

I shake it off with a violent shrug. “Don’t touch me.” I need to get away from him. I feel my eyes start to sting. No, I can’t do this in front of him. 

He cuts in front of me, blocking my way to the stairs. “Don’t be like this.” He’s so irritatingly calm compared to the storm exploding inside me. 

I put my hand up to ward him off. “It’s fine.” My voice somehow remains steady. “Exclusivity wasn’t part of our arrangement. I just want to be alone.” 

He steps forward, stubbornly ignoring everything I said, and reaches out to put his hand on my cheek. Gods, that normally has the power to melt me. “If it is fine, why are you being dramatic?” How typical of him.

“Fuck you.” I shove his hand away from me. “You always have to have the last word. You could’ve just let me walk away.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes shut for a second, as though I’m the one who’s offended him. “Fine go. I’d rather not put up with a childish tantrum.”

Childish, it stings in ways I can’t define. The pain of it all twists and transforms, becoming fury. I close the distance between us, tilting my head to glare up at him. “Maybe you’d prefer to not put up with me at all? I can arrange that.”

“Try it. What have you ever accomplished in your life without me.” He snaps back at me. 

Black washes over my vision, my thoughts vanishing into rage, and I lash out, striking him across the face. He catches my wrist with his left hand as I pull back. That roiling anger too quickly vanishes, replaced by a sudden dread as his eyes begin to smolder an unnatural crimson. I’ve never born witness to the demon truly unleashed. An aura of terrible power blazes around him, filling the hall with a haunting flickering red light. I quake slightly as I feel those unliving fingers dig into my wrist. “You ungrateful little bitch.” Another voice speaks along with his. Is it him or the demon in control now? 

Instead of the unnatural warmth of his touch that I know so well, a burning begins to singe my skin. “Let go!” I try to pull away and I flashback to that night that started all of this, a similar altercation between us, how frighteningly strong he actually was. “Jericho, you’re hurting me.” In fear and desperation, I step forward and slam my shoulder into his chest.

He inhales sharply, backing up, and let’s go. His eyes close and that terrible power dissipates, coiling itself back inside him. I turn and flee, scared, humiliated, heartbroken. “Kat wait. I’m so sorry.” He calls after me, but I can’t even turn to face him. 

I slam the door to my room behind me and collapse into the window seat. Pulling my knees up to my chest, I try and steady my rapidly beating heart and panting breath. I should leave, just forget whatever this absurd arrangement has become and go. I look down at my wrist, a scarlet, irritated handprint wraps around it. I shift and a sheath digs into my back, causing me to recoil as though someone was behind me. “Godsdamn it.” I pull out the dagger and send it across the room to embed in the wall. “Damn it all.” I rip the other blade from my back and toss it to the ground with a snarl before pulling my legs back up to my chest. Why can’t I find it in me to leave?

I stare apathetically out at the dark city until there’s a soft knock at the door. I’ll have to face him sooner or later anyway. “You wouldn’t go away if I told you to, so you might as well come in.” 

He doesn’t meet my eyes as he enters, genuine guilt for once written on his features. “I wanted to apologize. You told me that I should not wait to do so. So I am here. Peace offering?” He holds out a bottle of wine, Shuriman, dark and bitter, very fitting. 

Perhaps I am mad, but now that he’s here I don’t want him to leave me alone. I take the bottle and gesture to the seat next to me. As he sits I take a long pull from it. “Well, I’m listening.” 

He fixes his gaze on the floor. “That was...not entirely me. However, losing control, that was my fault. And I do beg your forgiveness. I will understand if you do not wish to give it.” 

After everything tonight I’ve grown numb and his words leave me oddly empty. But that lack of feeling brings some clarity, he’s not the only one who bears responsibility for what happened. “I shouldn’t have hit you. I’m sorry about that.” I take another pull off the bottle. “Interesting choice for an apology, what should I make of it?”  
He shrugs. “I was sure you would be gone. I actually planned to drink myself to sleep.” 

I hand him back the bottle. “Would you really allow that?”

At last, he turns to look up at me, our eyes locking. “I would not stop you if that is what you really wanted.” He passes the bottle back to me. 

I take another long pull. “And where would I go? What would I do?” Our fingers touch as he takes the bottle back from my hand and he brushes his thumb along mine.

“You would work something out. You don’t really need me. That’s the truth, despite what I said earlier. ” Is it? I stretch my legs out into his lap and hiss as pain shoots through my thigh. He looks at the floor again. “I forgot you were hurt.” He sets the bottle to the side and takes my hand, looking pointedly at my wrist. “Should I go? Am I only making things worse?” 

I don’t think I could bear it if he did. “No, it’s fine, stay.” I leave my hand in his. He squeezes it ever so slightly as if he’s worried I’ll make him let go. 

Suddenly he leans over, arms around my waist and leaning his head against my chest. “I would prefer it if you didn’t leave though. I would miss you.” 

Why is it that the only mercy that exists in my soul is for him? I wrap my arms around his shoulders and return his embrace. “I’m not going to leave.” 

“Swear it?” he asks softly. 

“I swear I’m not leaving.” I kiss the top of his head and lean my cheek against it. 

He sighs as though he’s been relieved of a great burden. “And I swear to take more care from now on.” He pulls himself even tighter against me. “My Kitten.” Does he really not know that oath or not, I can be nowhere but by his side?


	14. Katarina

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! I have been pushing myself to get this chapter out on the day of love!  
> As always your playlist song:  
> [Like A Prayer](https://open.spotify.com/track/1z3ugFmUKoCzGsI6jdY4Ci?si=w_HuYIZvRAuMS6gKeZZUzw)
> 
>  
> 
> ❤TragedyBunny❤  
> Follow me on Tumblr or Twitter if you're so inclined.
> 
>  

Thunk. The dagger hits the target, perfectly dead center. I’m hanging upside down from a ceiling rafter, throwing at targets scattered around the room, concentrating despite the dizziness starting to make my head spin. Behind me, I hear the whine of the opening door. None of the servants would dare interrupt me, not even Gwen. “Kitten, are you still not talking to me?”

I listen to his steps as he draws closer to me. I glance to my right and let a dagger fly in his direction. It buries itself in the wall next to him, he doesn’t flinch. “I’ll take that as yes.” We both know that I wasn’t actually aiming at him. He sighs, now the negotiating starts. “How about we go to the theatre tonight and then to that little cafe you like so much?” 

I throw a blade at another target and ignore him. I want to see what concessions he’s willing to make. “I’ll buy you something shiny.” Hmm, there are a few pieces at the jeweler’s that I’ve had my eye on.

I throw again, another perfect hit. “Fine, do whatever you want to do with the blasted garden.” He almost sounds pained saying it. I feel a smile tug at the corner of my lips, I hadn’t expected to get exactly what I wanted. That’s what the whole argument had been about, he’d been staunchly against the expense. 

“All of the above.” I sit up onto the beam and drop down next to him. I almost let out a gasp when I get a good look at him, he looks so very tired and worn. He’d left before the sun was even up this morning. I’d barely fallen asleep after chasing a target most of the night when I’d felt him stir beside me. There’s been growing unrest in the south, sparking bands of rebels to spring up and need to be put down. I feel a bit guilty for all the theatrics just now. I lean up and brush my lips against his while wrapping my arms around his neck. “Darling, we don’t have to go out.” 

I watch his eyes stray to the now faded handprint on my wrist. The past couple of months since that terrible night he’s been overly indulgent, giving into nearly every request or whim of mine. It’s bittersweet, I no longer believe what we have means nothing to him, but he still will not tell me otherwise. Is it pride, fear, or am I imagining things? He leans his cheek on the top of my head. “No, it’s fine.” 

The way I’m pressed against his chest I can hear the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, strong and reassuring. “I'll leave it up to you.” I feel his arms tighten around me. I’m tempted to say more, but it’d make him cross if I fussed over him. 

When we first started going to the theatre we were the subject of extreme interest. Those same whispers that followed us at the Solstice revels consumed the theatre crowd. Winter was fading away and we were falling back into a routine after what happened, he found me idly sketching and stated he was bored and we should go out. I told him he never wanted to go out, which earned an annoyed huff. I’d had to kiss away his irritation before he’d let me agree to his suggestion. It became a bit of a regular occurrence as spring arrived full force, the two of us, ensconced in his private box, bantering and debating in hushed whispers, trying to keep as quiet as possible. As if anyone would actually admonish the Grand General for not keeping quiet at the theatre. 

“You really are spoiling me.” I twirl and show off the latest of his gifts, black lace and tulle, voluminous skirt yet somehow very revealing. 

“I would say it’s worth it.” His gaze roves over me appreciatively before his hands close around my hips and he pulls me close. “You’re stunning.” The way his voice drops low and he whispers those words in my ear, I can almost feel my cheeks going crimson. I hate it when he does that. 

“We will be late if you continue this.” I hesitate for a moment, we could just stay home. Eventually, I pull myself from his grasp and climb into the waiting carriage. “You may further compliment me when we return.” 

It’s opening night for some unheard of playwright who’s managed to get the backing of a noble family. These productions that buy their way into a theatre are usually vanity pieces for their patrons and almost always end in spectacular disaster. Tonight is no exception, an overwrought affair based on an old myth, with glaringly obvious current parallels. “Really? Comparing me to Mordekaiser. I’m not sure if I should be insulted or flattered.” 

“I would say flattered, but the dialogue is so insipid I’m going to go with insulted.” I make a mock gagging noise. 

“We could just leave. That would cause a bit of a stir, walk out right now.”

“Tempting but whoever bankrolled this would probably think that was a victory. Oh, I know, let’s ask to meet the author. I heard he’s here. That will terrify him.” 

“That is evil. How do I sleep next to you at night?” He puts his arm through my mine, bringing us closer. 

“I always assumed very lightly.” I lean my head on his shoulder, relishing the moment.

He laughs in that subdued manner that’s typical for him, control to him is everything, and then squeezes my hand ever so slightly. I’ve come to know that gesture for what it is, his way of asking for affection, even if it is more proof of that constant need for control. I tilt my head up and brush my lips against his cheek anyway, I’ll not deny him. “I’m glad we came out tonight.” I’m taken aback at the unexpected honesty. I return my head to his shoulder and feel him ever so lightly kiss the top of my head.

“Me too.” Some intuition grips me and I realize there’s something he’s not telling me. I can feel the tension in his body as I lean against him. Between that and the tiredness lingering in his eyes, I’m troubled. 

I don’t really pay attention to the remainder of the theatrical debacle playing out before us, instead, we whisper back and forth and exchange soft kisses when we run out of words. When the whole dreadful thing has finally concluded neither of us is invested in our malicious scheme from earlier. We attempt to slip out of the theatre quickly before any of the high society crowd can attempt to small talk to us. “Madame Katarina, Grand General!” Coming around a corner into an open foyer we almost run down the owner of the cultured, smooth voice. 

“Rowan!” We stop short and I lean in to give them a quick peck on the cheek. “What a wonderful surprise.” I hear Jericho very quietly huff behind me, he knows why I'm so elated at the coincidence.

“Am I missing something?” They clearly sense the opposing forces at work here.

I met Rowan at a gallery show for Alrich about a month ago, we ended up deep in conversation and kept in touch after. It was only after our first meeting that I realized they were, in fact, the newly elected Head of the Mage’s Council. Jericho referred to it as quite a fortuitous connection, always politics with him. “Since you asked, there’s a small favor I need to beg of you.” Gardens don’t really grow in normal Noxian soil, you either import it or have it enchanted or better yet, both. “Could you recommend the best green mage of your acquaintance?” I give deep emphasis to best, the cost isn’t a concern. 

“Planning to play in your garden a bit?” They give me a wry smile, they’ve heard my ambitions on this subject before. “I’ll see to it as soon as possible my dear. I hope you'll forgive my haste but I'm late to an engagement." They incline their head politely to Jericho. "Grand General, always an honor, Sir. And do stop by sometime, the both of you, I owe you a tour.”

“We’ll look forward to it.” We kiss cheeks again, Jericho returns their nod, and they fade into the now pressing crowd. 

Pushing through to the exit we finally find ourselves out in the mild spring night. I take his arm as we walk the short distance from the theatre to the cafe. “What’s troubling you, and don’t tell me nothing, I know better.”

“You are spending too much time with me. I had planned on having a discussion with you shortly. But first, other pressing matters. You are aware there is an intelligence briefing tomorrow, correct?” 

“Yes.” This again, I keep my tone purposefully terse. 

“And you know what time it is set to begin at?” I nod silently. “Then don’t be late again. Veera already thinks your position should be rescinded, stop giving her excuses. And please actually try to be in uniform.”

“She’s never going to like my being there anyway.” This is really the last thing I want to talk about. 

“I’d imagine that has something to do with you breaking her nose up north.” His tone is flat. 

I pull away from him to gesture wildly. “You know what she said! How was I supposed to know she was Intelligence.” 

“You could’ve not let her bait you like that. However, she’s your Superior and you will have to deal with her for now.”

“Until I’m promoted. That’s what you’re planning on, isn’t it?” Thinking of fucking Veera and High Command has me silently seething. I didn’t even want this position in Intelligence, it was regretfully forced on me as soon as I became Guild Commander. “Remember when she had the nerve to ask if I could even read High Noxian like I’m some sort of uneducated child. The Grand Whore apparently can't understand our official language."

He surprisingly chuckles quietly. “You spent a whole meeting only speaking to her in Old Noxian. It was quite impressive actually, I didn’t even know you spoke it.” Now he finds it amusing, he was irritated at the time. 

“I suppose it’s typical. People usually think killing is all I’m good for.” With that thought, melancholy starts to bleed into my rage. I trudge on in silence but he catches up and takes my arm again. He doesn’t speak though, giving me a moment until we reach our destination on the edge of an open plaza. There are a few cafes scattered amongst the now darkened shops that remain open for the crowds coming from the theatres, opera house, and galleries, but there’s one in particular I favor. 

We’d started coming here shortly after we began having theatre nights. I’d frequented it before on my own, but one night we’d both needed sobering up and weren’t ready to go home. There had been a painfully boring diplomatic dinner that had impelled us both to decimate our host’s wine cellar. Well, impelled me anyway, I may have drug him along with it. It makes me smile a little to think of myself being a bad influence on the Grand General. We’d scared the owner Tavi, a Shuriman immigrant, half to death. He had no idea what to do with Jericho seated at one of his outdoor tables, sipping coffee with his mistress. He has since thankfully calmed down a bit when we show up. 

We find our usual table, tucked into a darker corner of the veranda, affording us at least some privacy, as Jericho prefers. Sahar, one of Tavi’s daughters brings out coffee with a polite greeting before we even ask. They always have the best Shuriman brew here. You can tell by the number of Tavi’s fellow immigrants clustered inside, looking for a taste of home. Moments later Sahar reappears with a smile and one of Tavi’s famous flaky crusted pastries. “I saved one just for you, Madame, I know you are fond of them.” She’s a flatterer, but that’s what I pay for. 

“Many thanks, Sahar. ” The scent of strawberries and roasted nuts wafts up to me and as soon as she’s out of sight I ravenously stuff a large forkful in my mouth. 

Jericho smirks at me from across the table. “If only I knew before that all it took to mollify you was a decent pastry.” 

I feign being indignant “It’s the strawberries, they’re my favorite, and someone wouldn’t let me have them all winter.” 

“No, he said stop spending a fortune on them when they have to be imported.” He pretends to be stern with me. 

I play the brat and pout. “You were mean about it and I didn’t get any.”

“My poor Kitten, that must have been torture. Although I know full well you had Cress buying them and hiding the cost. How many bottles of wine did it cost me for you to bribe him?” He sits back looking triumphant, he’s won our little back and forth.”

“No fair, you always know everything.” I blow him a kiss and finish enjoying my pastry. With the last bite dispatched I turn my attention back to what’s bothering him. The silence that’s stretched between us seems to be alive with whatever it is, it’s heavy and oppressive, erasing the pleasantness of a few moments ago. “So.”

“I suppose I owe you that discussion about what’s been on my mind.” I nod, hoping to just get it over with. My every sense is telling me to dread his words. “You know there’s been unrest in the south. Thus far the forces sent have failed to stamp it out entirely.” He pauses and once again tension fills the space between us. “I intend to go settle it myself.”

My heart freezes, I forget to breathe. He’s going to war. Part of me cries out to beg him not to, but that’s not the Noxian way and he’d despise it. Instead, I steady myself and bury that impulse. “Do you want me to go with?” That would be acceptable, I could make myself of use, like in the North.

He shakes his head. Of course, he won’t want it construed that he needs to take his little pet everywhere with him. “No, but the situation has given me much to consider and there is something I need to ask of you.” Another moment of terrible silence. I stare down at the cup in my hands that I hadn’t realized I was clutching tightly. Will he just get this over with? “It occurs to me I could use someone to watch over my interests while I’m away. Not with official power, of course, but to keep my allegiances strong and prevent my enemies from growing too bold.”

“And?” I urge him on, gesturing impatiently. 

“I would want you to have the respect due to you while acting on my behalf. And I’d like to make it clear in that case that anyone acting against you is acting against me as well.” I take a sip of coffee, completely lost. “All this is to say, I think we should get married.” 

A raspy cough escapes me as I choke on my coffee. “What!?”

“You and I, we should get married.” He says a bit more slowly as if it somehow makes it any less absurd. 

“Honestly, I’m a little surprised you’re even bothering to ask and not just ordering.” The shock leaves me defensive and lashing out. Get married, be his wife, this is lunacy.

Now he’s the one who turns his eyes away and contemplates his cup. “Fair enough. Although I would argue things have changed over time.” He reaches out to take my hand, thumb running along my knuckles. His voice drops into that soft tone that always persuades me to his point. “You would agree, right?”

Damn him for being charming. “I suppose they have a bit.” I give his hand a soft squeeze. 

“You have to admit it is a solid notion. I know Darius can be depended upon and Argos is very capable but has not been in his position long. And soon enough we’ll have a new Commander of the Capitol Guard.” 

“I didn’t realize she was finally retiring.” I interrupt. 

“Not quite.” The insinuation is unmistakable. “I’ll need you to see to it personally. Back to the point, I’ll get what I need while I’m gone and if I should not return, you’ll be a very wealthy widow.” 

I roll my eyes at that last bit. “Don’t be ridiculous, something’s far more likely to befall me than you.”

He looks up brows furrowed. “Don’t say that.”

“Can I think about this whole thing?” I’m at a loss. All my work to accept the way things are between us, and he wants to complicate it all over again. 

“If you insist, my Warbands have been summoned though, and I plan to leave within the week.” Why am I the last to know about this whole thing? “Keep in mind, we can always get divorced if you find it disagreeable. In fact, since you have no assets of your own, I’m technically the only one at risk.”

It’s such a clerical way of looking at it, just what I’d expect from him. I almost wish it hurt, but I’m too used to how he is. So instead I simply rise and stretch. “I’m ready to go home.” I start walking away before he’s even out of his seat. 

“Right.” He leaves some coin on the table and hurries to catch up with me. I feel the weight of his coat drop around my shoulders and inhale the scent of him that clings to it, leather and parchment and that cologne he pretends he doesn’t wear. “There’s a chill in the air.” There’s not but it’s an unusually soft gesture so I let his little lie slide.

“Still trying to persuade me?” I slow my pace a bit so that we fall into step with each other. 

“Perhaps.” He takes my hand. “Is it working?” I only roll my eyes at him again, this time with a smile though. 

Thankfully he lets the subject drop the rest of the way home. Once Gwen has helped me out of my dress, I slip on my robe and take a precious few moments to think while running a brush through my hair. How can I even begin to contemplate marrying him? It’s absolutely absurd, and he’s arranged it all with the same cool detachment of ordering his soldiers into formation. And yet he asked, admitting when he did that things are not as they once were between us. With that admission comes the stinging awareness that for whatever his reason, he’d rather it remain unacknowledged. As usual, I’m expected to obey his wishes and follow along with his silence. But isn’t that what I’ve accepted time and again?

Nothing is clarified by the time I slip next door to find him hunched over his desk, pen in hand. “Are you seriously working right now?”

He puts a hand up. “I’ll only be a moment.” 

I stalk over and drop myself into his lap, he doesn’t get to propose to me and then spend the rest of the night obsessing over the Empire. “No.” He tries to write around me. “I want your attention.” 

I lean in and kiss his jaw just where it meets his neck, he shudders. My lips travel upward, I nip and pull his earlobe between my teeth, sucking for a moment. He gasps, pen clattering down onto the desk. “You are insistent on making a nuisance of yourself, aren’t you?” He wraps his hands around my hips.

“If that’s what it takes to get what I want.” I can feel that tension in him again and I’m reminded of the reason for his proposal. There must be some concern about this rebellion within High Command if he’s going to take on the task himself. He still hasn’t rooted out the conspiracy he knows is working in the shadows, no doubt that weighs on him as well. I kiss his neck and let my teeth graze it, he digs his fingers into my hips and thrusts lightly against me. I feel the heat of desire build inside me. “You’re so tense though, let me take care of you.”

I push his hands away and slide down to the floor between his legs. I trace my fingers along the growing bulge in his pants, causing more small noises from him, before opening them. He sighs when I grasp him and work my hand up and down his length. I feel his fingers dig into my shoulders when I run my tongue over his head and take him into my mouth. His hand grips my hair, pushing me forward, urging me to take all of him. Tongue pressed against him, lips tight, I move up and down, listening to his soft moans. When he can no longer stand my deliberately slow pace, he holds me still and drives into me, relentlessly using me. 

I hear his rapid breathing and know he’s taken himself close to the edge. I break away, clambering back into his lap, straddling his hips. I let my robe fall to the floor and lean down for a rough kiss, my hand once again wrapped around his cock. “Don’t tease me.” He growls. 

“Never.” Wet and aching for him, I impale myself on him and moan as his hips buck up to meet me. Again I start slow, rocking my hips against him, taking him as deep as possible. His hands hold me loosely, a sign he's given over control to me. “You feel so good inside me.” I quicken, moving with urgency, breath coming rapidly, feeling the bliss of being filled with him. I feel myself tighten around him, pleasure exploding inside me, crying out as I’m spent. I’m pliant as a moment later he pulls me down roughly, taking back that control, and finishing with a few deep thrusts. 

I lean my head onto his shoulder, suddenly exhausted, and feel his arms wrap around me. He means so much to me, will I lose him if I don’t do what he asks? Will he find someone else to play the part? I’m out of choices again it would seem. “You’re right, it’s a good idea.”

I leave it at that and wait for him to respond. “Look me in the eyes and tell me yes, if that’s your answer, Kat.” 

I oblige and sit up, staring into those unyielding dark pools. “Yes, I’ll marry you.” I brush my lips lightly against his to seal my promise.


End file.
